


Come Sail Away

by SinisterSound



Category: ATEEZ (Band)
Genre: Control Issues, Discussions of mortality and morality, Discussions of self and self discovery, E rating is for the violence and the depth of some discussions, Element Personification!AU, Emotional support and love, Eventual smut in the final chapter, Friendship and Love, Gods!AU, Hongjoong and Seonghwa are protective and distrustful, Immortals (sort of), M/M, Magic Powers, Manifestations of power, Moon Child!Yeosang, Personal growth and changing of self-perceptions, Pirate!AU, Please be Careful when reading!, Potential eventual smut, Sea Child!Hongjoong, Ship Traveling, Sky Child!Seonghwa, They’re pirates, War Child!Wooyoung, Warnings: some of the powers manifest in ways that are described like anxiety or dissociations, Wooyoung has issues, Yeosang and Wooyoung are working things out, Yeosang helps him through them, but not bad people, but not really, learning control, more tags may be added
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-17
Updated: 2020-05-17
Packaged: 2021-03-02 02:09:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 114,091
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23707399
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SinisterSound/pseuds/SinisterSound
Summary: Hongjoong knew they were screwed the moment War stepped onto his ship.Wooyoung is a god on the cusp of destruction seeking solitude on an old enemy’s ship.On that ship, he meets a Moon Child with too much patience, too much peace, and too much faith in the fact that Wooyoung doesn’t deserve to die.Wooyoung wants to prove him wrong.Somehow, that proves harder than anything he’s ever done in centuries of living.
Relationships: Jung Wooyoung/Kang Yeosang, Kim Hongjoong/Park Seonghwa
Comments: 147
Kudos: 1067





	1. Love and War

**Author's Note:**

> I’m sorry for the wait on this one!! >n<  
> I’ve been struggling to find enough time to work, but I really wanted to post this one today! 
> 
> This one is a bit of a different style, but please let me know if anything is incoherent or just doesn’t make sense - my mind has been so scattered lately so my editing was probably awful ㅠㅠㅠ So please let me know what you think of it!! 
> 
> I’m super excited to write this, but I want to give a fair warning that updates may be slower on this one! I usually have them done in ~4 days but I may push it to 5 or more depending on my schedule >~<  
> Thank you so much for being patient, and I hope this makes up for the little lag I had in posting! 
> 
> I hope you’re all happy, safe, and healthy wherever you are!! Please let me know what you think, and have an amazing day, lovelies~~ 
> 
> -SS  
> (PS: it’s not really a spoiler but War is Wooyoung, just for clarification sake!)

Mortals were not foolish.

They were misguided, yes. Idiotic, at times. Easily convinced and easily won over.

But not foolish. 

Just because they believed the gods to be towering powerhouses of energy and might, stepping on humanity without a thought, did not make them fools. 

It was not their fault. Back in the days when they needed to hide, back in the dark ages before humanity had really settled and the gods were in hiding, immortals helped spread those rumors. 

The gods were still powerful.

They were the power of an entire concept, an entire entity of existence, compressed behind the walls of a dam that was always on the verge of tearing itself apart. Some did, if they didn’t learn how to control it well enough. Just… fading away as their own existence killed them. 

But… 

Humanity needed hope. 

What hope could be found in immortal concepts locked inside of fragile, mortal bodies? 

What hope was there when you learned that gods could die- quite easily, without any influence from an outside force? 

What hope was possible when you stared at someone as human as you and they said they were a mighty god, controller of forces beyond their control? 

So the gods lied. 

They spread their stories of giants sitting atop mountains and existing below the earth, watching humanity from afar as they themselves strolled through masses of humans unseen. 

They pushed the rumors that the gods were invisible, invincible, and too self-important to ever mingle among the humans they ruled over.

Mortals were not foolish, but they were misled by centuries of fabrication and protection. 

Gods did not walk among clouds, among magma- they walked upon earth, encased in mortal flesh that was constantly struggling against the power held within it. 

They were not gods. 

They were children of immortal concepts, manifested and stumbling with a power too strong for themselves, sometimes surviving and sometimes tearing themselves apart. 

But they never truly died. 

They were always reborn over centuries and millennia, completely separate from who they once were, but the concepts that they were born from… 

Those never died. 

~~~~~~~~~

Hongjoong knew that they were screwed the moment War stepped onto his ship. 

The port they were in was bustling with people, the rest of the crew gone to gather supplies, but Hongjoong remained behind on his ship to keep an eye out. 

And he saw him.

He saw his brilliant red shirt billowing loosely around him before he even appeared at the bottom of the gang plank, staring up at Hongjoong with that serene upturn of his lips that was so innocent but holding so much threat.

In passing, you might think he looked young, pure and graceful and timeless. But the longer you looked, the more you saw the sneer there, the anger burning in his eyes, the tension in his shoulders that threatened movement. 

Like a child smiling as they sliced a knife across your throat. 

Hongjoong stood at the top of the plank, glaring down at him.

“What are you doing here,  _ War _ ?” Maybe if he were smarter, he would try and keep his temper down. But it was impossible not to feel a rise in fighting instinct when War appeared. And not just because of his insufferability. 

He tilted his head, never stopping that damn smile. “I felt you in the area. I thought I’d come say hello.”

“You’ve said your hellos,” Hongjoong said darkly, pointing towards the port. “Leave now.” 

War tilted his head, stepping onto the plank. Hongjoong pulled the gun at his side and aimed it down the line of the board, aiming for his heart. 

“ _ Not _ another step,” he growled. “Get off my ship.” 

War kept walking, paying no mind to the gun. It wasn’t that it couldn’t hurt him. It’s just that mortal weapons wouldn’t hurt them fast enough to matter.

“Child of the Sea, if you wish to stop me, you must do it yourself.” War always spoke slowly, like he had nothing that could ever rush him. 

And what worry should one have, being a child of War? 

War walked like a king, powerful in a world filled with such hatred and endless battles. “But I have not come to fight,” he said leisurely. 

“You always come to fight,” Hongjoong spat. “It’s all you know.” 

War’s lips quirked, and it was a little more amusement than predatory. “You know me well,” he noted. “But not all battles are made with fists. Some are subtler, quieter than that. Those are perhaps the most powerful.” He had reached the top, stepping onto the ship, forcing Hongjoong a step back. “I have a request of you, Sea Child.” 

“My name is Hongjoong,” he snapped, shoving the pistol back at his side. 

War lifted an unimpressed eyebrow. “So you’re still one of those… What power does having a name give you? At your core, you are still just the Sea.” 

“I think it sounds better,” he said sarcastically. “It’s catchy. Now say what you have to say so I can throw you into the ocean.” 

War sighed, reaching up and running fingers through his light hair messily. “Children of the Sea are always in such a rush. I wonder if it has to do with water never stopping its movement. Perhaps it creates a restlessness that is so easy to turn into anger-” 

“You’re wasting time,” Hongjoong said flatly, boot slamming on the deck. “I want you gone before the others return.” 

“You mean the other gods?” 

Hongjoong stiffened, hand drifting towards his useless pistol on instinct. 

War scoffed lightly, amused. “You didn’t honestly think that seven gods traveling on this moving island of a ship would pass unnoticed? I could feel all of you from the other side of the world. It made you very easy to find, Hongjoong.” 

“Say what you came to say,” he muttered through gritted teeth. “And then leave. I’m not here for a lecture.” 

War sighed, as if put upon and shifted, eyes sharpening as he placed a hand against his hip. “Fine. I have a request of you.” 

Hongjoong couldn’t stop the shock across his face. War? One of the most powerful gods out there… needed something from him? 

War’s eyes sharpened. “I need passage on your ship.” 

Hongjoong couldn’t stop himself from snorting at the statement, which earned him a heated glare from War, his eyes flashing a deep bloody red. He felt his own anger rise again, but he was aware this time, and while it painted across his face, it didn’t make him move. 

“I would never allow you on my ship,” he scoffed sharply. “Take your warmongering and find someone else.” 

“I  _ need _ passage on your ship,” he snapped, stepping forward, the edges of his eyes staining a red tinge. “On a ship filled with humans, my element would cause their deaths within a week. You have a ship filled with gods. It must be yours.” 

“And why do you think-”

“Hyung, we’ve returned!” 

Feet raced up the gangplank, San appearing with two bags of vegetables over his shoulders. His grin was strong until he stepped onto the ship, eyes zeroing in on the stranger standing there. 

His face fell in confusion. “Who-”

“Keep moving!” Mingi ordered, pushing San further onto the ship so the others could carry their loads up. Subsequently, he stopped where San had, staring wide eyed at the new man. 

“What are you two waiting for?” Seonghwa demanded, slipping past Mingi and actually dropping the case he was holding, stiffening. “War,” he breathed, getting over his shock and his expression darkening. 

“Greetings, Sky Child,” he said loftily. “You’re still well, I see.” 

Seonghwa stepped back, almost running into Yunho and Jongho carrying a crate between them. They set it down, confused by the foreign presence. And lastly, Yeosang came up, carrying a bag, freezing when he saw him. 

“I thought I felt some sort of presence earlier,” San murmured, stepping away warily. 

Yeosang, however, stepped forward, confused as he tilted his head. “What is Love doing here?” 

Everyone on the ship looked between Yeosang and War, but Hongjoong felt the urge to laugh. “You need to get your eyes checked, Yeosang. There’s nothing Lovely about this person.” 

Yeosang looked at the Sea Child and frowned, looking genuinely perplexed. “But I can feel it,” he said firmly. “He’s Love.” 

“He’s  _ War _ ,” Hongjoong stressed, glaring at the intruder. “And he’s not welcome here.” 

War, however, was staring at Yeosang, head tilted for a moment before his smile returned, but it was… kinder than his usual one.

Hongjoong was prepared to leap into action, but War merely chuckled.

“Ah,” he said quietly, voice gentler than he had ever spoken to Hongjoong. “A Child of the Moon. I should have known.”

He chuckled, stepping forward and patting Yeosang’s head like you might a child’s. 

Yeosang didn’t flinch away like Hongjoong would have, simply watching War curiously. For the first time in Hongjoong’s existence, War didn’t seem angry. His expression was… almost soft. Fond. 

“Children of the Moon have always been a little kinder,” War mused. “I’m glad at least one person can see another side to me.” 

“Stop lying,” Hongjoong said, stepping forward and pushing Yeosang back and placing himself between them. “Everyone here already knows you’re War.” 

“I am Love  _ and  _ War,” he said firmly, eyes darkening, losing their gentleness. “The two are not so far apart as people would like to think. And you have not answered my question.” 

“Yes, I did,” he snapped. “It’s still no- now get off my ship.” He turned away from him to address the others. “Move everything to the stores. We’re leaving as soon as he’s gone.” 

“What question?” San asked, looking around in confusion. 

“Your captain here is being difficult for reasons I can’t possibly  _ fathom- _ ”

“You tried to kill us last time we met!” Seonghwa snapped, making everyone look at him. 

War scoffed. “Times were different, then. Everyone was trying to kill each other. And times are different now. I need passage on your boat.” 

“Where are you trying to go?” Yunho asked hesitantly. 

“I don’t have a destination, I need solitude.” His expression didn’t change, but his stance was perhaps a little uneasy, shifting from one foot to the other subtly. “Any ship full of humans would be dead within a week. I need a ship of gods.” 

“Traveling with seven other gods doesn’t sound like solitude,” Seonghwa muttered, crossing his arms. 

War glared, eyes tinged a bloody red. “I do not seek solitude from gods, I seek it from this-” He gestured widely behind them at the bustling port. “All the humans, all the  _ wars, _ all the fighting-”

“Sounds like everything you ever wanted,” Hongjoong said darkly, unremorseful. “You’re more powerful now than you’ve ever been.” 

War blew out a sharp breath, red lightning cracking along the surface of his skin, but never leaping off. Hongjoong tensed, prepared for a fight that never came.

“You know all too well what too much power does to us,” War hissed, voice sounding like layers of voices speaking at once. “ _ You, _ Child of the Sea, who chose to stay so close to your own domain. You wouldn’t lie and tell me it does not tear you apart  _ daily _ .” 

Hongjoong felt his blood chill as he stiffened, his mind focusing on that part of him that was always there but was shoved  _ far  _ back in his mind.

The part that could feel the surge of waves beneath them, the part that thrived off the spray of salt water that flew up the sides of the ship- and the small case of flesh that tried to hold it back.

This was why they needed to stop at ports, to be near the earth- to take away some of that power. Even if Hongjoong was always far too attached to the Sea to ever step onto land for too long himself.

The red in War’s eyes grew until it swallowed his irises. “There is too much war, Sea Child. Too much fighting- never ending. I  _ need _ solitude. If I don’t find it, I will fade.” 

The bitter part of Hongjoong remembered the last time he met War.

Maybe not long ago to gods, but in the times of the world, it was countless centuries, back when humans had only just learned to build their cities.

He remembered flowing along a river that came from seawater, and finding War there, standing among hundreds of slaughtered villagers who had fought for land. 

There was someone else standing there with him. A man- a sky god- with bright, pearly eyes that were horrified at the bloodbath covering War. 

As the Sky Child’s angry gestures grew, the wind picked up around them, strong enough to force waves in the river, to blow around some of the corpses- causing Hongjoong to cling to a rock as a whirlwind formed in his distress. 

War had looked at Seonghwa, eyes red, blank, and apathetic as he struck him across the face hard enough to crack the earth with how hard he fell. 

And of course, Hongjoong couldn’t just stand back, and had given his help. The gods were changing. 

Infighting was being extinguished. Hongjoong tried to stop War, but all it did was turn the inevitable battle to two-on-one. 

Seonghwa and he had fought War until he left, but they never forgot him. 

Never forgave him for the deaths and suffering he caused. 

“Why should I care if you fade?” Hongjoong spat quietly, turning away. 

“ _ Hongjoong _ .” He turned with a glare to Yeosang who was staring at him in horror. “This isn’t something you can take lightly! He’s going to  _ fade _ .” 

Hongjoong looked at War and grit his teeth. “Let him fade,” he muttered darkly. “Maybe for once, we’ll have peace.” 

“Killing me will not bring  _ peace _ ,” War snarled. “Killing War kills Love.” 

“He’s coming with us,” Yeosang fought, stepping forward forcefully.

“That isn’t your decision to make, Yeosang,” Seonghwa said sternly. “Inviting War along with us is begging for disaster.” 

The Moon Child’s gentle face was drawn tight. “He’s not just War! Can’t you feel it? We can’t just let him die!” 

War turned to Yeosang, and Hongjoong jerked forward, but some of the red energy dissipated along his crackling skin.

War almost seemed to calm for a moment, even if his air of annoyance still stained his tone. 

“Children of the Moon are often more peaceful,” War noted, voice quieter, once again the sort of soft that Hongjoong had never heard before. “They have always gotten along well with Children of War and Love. I often wondered if it had to do with the romanticism attached to the moon.” 

“What will you do if you come with us?” Yeosang tested, staring at War intently, as if begging him to pick the right answer.

Hongjoong could feel the power crackling around War lessen, and he frowned.

War hummed, calmer. “I would stay long enough to reaffirm my grip on myself. After some of the pressure has gone, I’ll be fine to return to whatever port you find abysmal enough to warrant having me.” 

Yeosang turned to Hongjoong, starlight eyes desperate. “Please, hyung,” he begged quietly. “Don’t let someone else fade. You… You promised,” he finished in a guilty whisper.

And  _ oh _ , that was playing dirty even if it was true.

Yeosang’s past was one they all knew well, and Hongjoong cursed the part of him that could never deny him, useless against the tug in his gut that told him to give in.

_ Curse it all.  _

He ground his teeth, looking between War and Yeosang before sighing harshly. “I don’t  _ care _ ,” he snapped under his breath. “Stay or go, but don’t expect hospitality from me.” He jerked his head towards the others. “Get the provisions put away. After that, get us out of here.” 

They all muttered an affirmative, all too aware of the tension in the air, not looking at War as they gathered their supplies and started moving.

Seonghwa casted War a glare before directing the others where to put things. 

War looked at Yeosang, his eyes almost completely devoid of red. “Thank you,” he said honestly. “I’m in your debt.” 

He shook his head quietly, picking up a bag. “Hongjoong isn’t the type of person to just let someone fade. I don’t know why he would-”

“It’s understandable,” War excused. “We have a history. And I have that effect on people. It’s in my nature, Moon Child.” 

Yeosang wrinkled his nose slightly. “You should call us by the names we chose.” 

War chuckled, shaking his head. “So he has the whole ship in on that, does he?” He hummed, as if humoring them, shifting his hair from his eyes. “Well, I suppose if I’m here for long, I should pick a name as well, should I?”

Yeosang shrugged, adjusting his grip on the bag. “You don’t have to. But it helps sometimes.” 

War could think of no instance where it could help, but hummed, trailing behind Yeosang as he moved with his burden.

“I never pay attention to names,” he mused. “I don’t think I even know any that aren’t centuries old…” He thought for a moment. “What do you think my name should be?” he questioned curiously, almost speaking condescendingly, but coming off as indulging. 

Yeosang glanced over his shoulder, frowning. “You want me to pick a name for you?”

“You named yourself,” he pointed out. “What would you name me?”

The Moon Child paused, looking War over a few times. “Maybe a Hyunho? Or…” He frowned, seeming to take this very seriously. 

Were names truly such a somber event? 

“Chanhee?” He asked, frowning deeper, testing each name. “Maybe… Wooyoung?”

War hummed, silently tasting the last name on his tongue. “Wooyoung,” he repeated slowly. “Is it a good one?”

Yeosang continued carrying his bag as they descended below deck, nodding. “I think it’s nice. Do… you like it?” he asked, glancing back.

War tilted his head, testing it on his tongue again. “I think it’s an acceptable one to have while I am here.” He glanced around the underside of the ship. “And what exactly do you do while out at sea for months?” he asked almost primly. 

He glanced around as if everything here were beneath him, even if it may prove slightly amusing. 

Yeosang shrugged. “There’s always stuff to fix and clean. Or you can sit and stare at the horizon.” 

War- Wooyoung?- chuckled. “Ah, the horizon. The love story of the ages. Sky and Sea, never touching, but always together. Destined to always suffer their proximity, but never meet-”

“I’ll thank you to stop that,” Seonghwa said sharply as he passed by them. 

War- Wooyoung- laughed. “You cannot tell me you believe you and Hongjoong’s meeting to be coincidental, Sky Child.”

He glared at him distastefully as he helped Yeosang put the bag where it belonged.

Wooyoung smirked. “Like with the Moon, the Sea and Sky are connected. And for centuries it has created wars the likes of which you could never imagine. Be grateful that you were created in a time where Hongjoong would aid you, rather than assist me in wiping you out.” 

“Like you wiped out that village?” Seonghwa questioned, not sharp, but bitter. 

Wooyoung- War- shook his head. “I do not control wars, Seonghwa,” he said, unremorseful, “I merely move towards them. They feed me the same as the air feeds you or the moon feeds him.” He jerked his head towards Yeosang. “Could you fault me for my nature?”

“I can try,” he muttered darkly, turning away. “Jongho,” he ordered, not unkindly, “show him to an empty bunk.” 

The small boy with skin the color of soil wrinkled his nose, and Wooyoung blinked in surprise. “Gods above, I hadn’t realized the Forest child had been reborn.” 

Jongho glared at him, miffed, but held his tongue. “This way.” 

War followed, watching him in almost amazement. “You cannot have been created more than a half a century ago.” 

“What of it?” he demanded defensively, shoulders hunched. “It does not make me less than you.” 

Wooyoung shook his head. “It does not, but it does explain how a Child of the Forest can exist so far from his domain for so long. You are not old enough to have developed dependence on your little domain.”

Jongho glared, but remained silent as he led Wooyoung down a line of doors.

Wooyoung truly had not seen a god so young in so, so long. “The trees that would feed you power will never come near this ship. Tell me, did you wake up here on this ship or did Hongjoong kidnap you before you even knew what you were?” His grin was bordering on wicked- but ending up sharp.

Jongho ignored him, but his shoulders were tense. “For someone trying to avoid war, you certainly are stirring a whole lot of trouble for only being here ten minutes.” 

“It is-” 

“Your nature,” he cut in sharply. “Yes, I got that. It doesn’t excuse the fact that you act like an ass.” 

Wooyoung laughed, loud and sharp. “And there would be the sturdiness of the forests. The knowledge that even the flames of war cannot kill you completely. A single sprig survives, and it can be rebuilt. Some would kill for that confidence.” 

“I’m telling the truth,” Jongho mumbled, opening a door and revealing a cabin. “If you want to survive this trip, try and reel in your nature. Yunho and Hongjoong had to learn, and so did Seonghwa. It’s possible.” He gestured around. “You’ll stay here. I don’t know how often a Child of War needs to sleep, but you can do it here.” 

“Never,” he said bluntly as they moved back towards the others. “But I’m sure that as the power lessens, I’ll need more. Until I become accustomed to it. Do you still sleep much, Forest Child?” 

“Jongho,” he corrected firmly. “And I guess. Usually every night.” 

Wooyoung hummed, smiling gently. “Cute. I’m sure Seonghwa has not slept once since you knew him.” Jongho leveled him with a suspicious gaze. “Unfortunately for him, he cannot escape his domain. The sky is constantly all around us, and that means he can never lessen that power. Hongjoong, too, I imagine, if he chooses to spend all his time on the sea.” 

Wooyoung had often wondered how certain gods were made differently than each other.

A Child of the Sky had to, from the first moment of creation, be stronger than a Child of, say, Spring might. If not, they would tear themselves apart the moment they were born- overloaded by an element that never rested or lessened.

Seonghwa had actually survived a surprisingly long time, given how long ago their first meeting was. And if Hongjoong chose to remain on the sea, it was a wonder he had not torn himself apart every other week.

“No, they don’t sleep much,” Jongho muttered. “Most of the others don’t sleep very much. I guess I’m the only one doing it nightly. Sometimes San does, too…” 

Wooyoung patted his shoulder, and Jongho looked at him sharply, but didn’t push away. “You’ll build stamina, Forest Child. But as long as you remain on this ship, you will never know your full power.” 

Jongho finally pulled away slowly. “That’s fine,” he said. “I don’t need it.” 

Wooyoung grinned, amused by the ignorance of one born in peace. “Adorable, really, that you would think that.” 

~~~~~~~

War had not slept in months.

And while gods had no real need of sleep, they partook in it. Though, some did it just for fun.

Their mortal bodies were like little robots that they piloted. 

It helped to sleep, for some gods. To take their mind away from everything for a moment, even if it did nothing for them physically. Recharging their tired body that had run low on batteries.

The closer to or stronger their element, the less they physically needed to sleep, and the harder it was for them to even attempt. Being near their element was like being hooked up to a live wire, constantly pumping them full of energy and restlessness tugging at their skin.

Those gods with those strong, unrelenting elements never ran out of energy… but that did not mean their mortal bodies didn’t grow tired. Overpowered and overdrawn.

The closer they were to their element, the louder the buzz, the more powerful the rush of power that their fragile human skin tried to contain was.

The closer they were, the closer they became to losing control and falling apart in a wild display of a god being overwhelmed by their power.

Such was their fate. 

People like Seonghwa and Hongjoong breathed their elements constantly, and would likely never find sleep, even if they wished to. Nor did they likely find peace from their raging elements. 

Someone like Jongho- miles and miles from the nearest forest- would almost have a physical need to sleep. Weaker and less connected than the rest of them, but still able to function. Wooyoung was sure that he must do a bit of traveling when they came to ports to soak back up some of himself, to balance out the weeks of fasting he must go through.

The farther or weaker your element, the more you may need to recharge your weary body.

But War had gone years, sleepless.

Lying in a bed, still and restless- begging to fall unconscious long enough to stop having a constant need to control himself. Silently tossing and turning frantically as he grit his teeth, begging for just a moment where he didn’t need to think, didn’t need to feel the utter rapid of power burning beneath his skin.

He wished for just a moment- a blink of an eye- of peace.

But it never came, his power too strong within him to allow it. 

There was too much war.

Too much anger and hatred surrounding every corner of the globe- there was no rest from it, no matter how far he traveled, no matter where he went.

Like sticking a million volt battery to him and telling him to relax his muscles. By all the gods, he tried.

Some time would pass before he needed to stand and walk- but always, inevitably, the inactivity agitated the thrum of power beneath his skin. It made his skin crawl with an itch to  _ move _ . 

Even miles into the sea, he still felt it.

So, he stared at the ceiling of his allotted cabin for hours- laying still in his bed, like immobility might grant him rest for once.

He rested his hands on his stomach, finally giving in to toss and turn for a while longer.

It was suffocating inside his own body. 

Wooyoung kept his restlessness until the storm inside of him threatened to break him. He stood up quickly, breathing out harshly as the boat rocked gently. He moved quickly from his cabin, down the long hall of doors and heading up to the main deck.

They were long gone from land- much farther than a normal ship would have made in such a time, aided by Hongjoong’s element- and when he stepped out, he felt the mist of sea spray. 

The icy spray did little to quench the fire beginning to burn his skin, making Wooyoung shake his head roughly to clear it of the buzz that was echoing.

It was dark out, the only light being the moon that was half full and bright, low in the sky, near the horizon. It was enough to see by, and he could make out a figure leaning against the rails at the front of the ship, staring out into the sea. 

Yeosang glanced back without making a sound, his eyes a silvery glow in the darkness- like a hundred stars threatening to break out of his gaze. “Evening,” he greeted, voice quiet and gentle, turning back to stare at the sky. 

Wooyoung nodded in response, coming up beside him, leaning on the railing that felt like it would shatter if Wooyoung so much as squeezed it. His muscles felt too tight. “The moon is lovely tonight,” he noted, voice betraying none of the storm inside himself. 

Yeosang hummed absently, staring up at it, almost entranced. “I wish it were full. It’s been too long since a full moon…” 

The energy inside of him was still tearing itself apart, but he went on, having nothing else to dispel his energy with but a simple conversation. “Anyone else out tonight?” 

Yeosang was still staring at his namesake, drawing one knee up to his chest comfortably. “Seonghwa is up in the crow’s nest,” he said, and his eyes finally trailed up to the top of the mast where he could make out a figure curled up.

Wooyoung could tell that Seonghwa was staring at him, but he ignored him, staring up at the glowing moon that casted Yeosang’s skin in silver.

“Hongjoong is inside,” Yeosang continued peacefully, “and I think San is sleeping. Not sure about the others. Probably awake in their cabins.”

Wooyoung hummed and sighed quietly, causing Yeosang to turn to him, eyes still shining like pools of mercury. He wondered what Yeosang would look like at a full moon, when his power would be strongest. 

“Why are you War  _ and _ Love?” Yeosang asked quietly, voice as gentle as the moonlight casted around them. “Why do the others only see one?” 

Yeosang could clearly see both. He could feel him as Love, but he saw him as War. 

Wooyoung might have laughed at such a question if it were not one he had warred with himself about for his entire life.

Wooyoung sighed slowly, resting his fist on his cheek. “Well, the answer to your second question is easy: the others do not see it because they do not wish to.”

“They’re not like that,” Yeosang protested quietly, frowning gently, making his brow ripple like moonlight on the water.

Wooyoung wanted to coo at his ignorance. “Hongjoong and Seonghwa have reason to only view me as War. We have a history. However, the others simply follow their first instinct: fear. And fear will lead you to War much faster than it will to Love.”

Wooyoung stared at the glimmering orb in the sky until his eyes began to burn like his chest did.

The fire in his blood was beginning to turn painful, but he continued to ignore it, as he had for his entire existence.

The airing rage of the humans’ wars was quieter, but the burning inside of him was not quenched by the distance. 

“Children of the Moon are peaceful,” he said, turning red-tinged eyes to meet his silver ones. “They are kind and wise- open to change like the phases of the moon that wax and wane.” He chuckled when Yeosang looked back to his element. “They will see truth, even if they do not wish to.” 

Yeosang frowned slightly, but did not look back down. His fingers began to toy with the sleeve of his white shirt- letting the flowing fabric fall across his fingers.

War inhaled deeply, breathing out low to relieve some of the pressure inside his chest. “But being both… they are more closely related than most would think,” he murmured, earning Yeosang’s attention. “Why does anyone go to war? Why does anyone fight? Why does anyone shed blood?” 

The ship rocked gently, like it was trying to sing a lullaby, and Wooyoung idly wondered if Hongjoong had anything to do with it.

Yeosang frowned quietly. “Hatred,” he answered. “Fear. Disgust.” 

Wooyoung chuckled at the response, so superficial. “Perhaps,” he admitted. “Hatred of one thing. But love of another, isn’t it?”

Yeosang looked bewildered, and Wooyoung’s lips twitched in amusement. 

“A country battles because it hates the enemy, but loves its home,” Wooyoung explained patiently, quietly. “Humans fight because of disgust of one thing, but because of their love of safety, love of themselves.”

The boat creaked slightly.

Wooyoung stared blankly at the rippling waves. “Fear makes people resort to violence, but they usually hold a love of something that makes them fear losing it. That is why people fight. Wars are fought for Love. Maybe a misguided love, maybe a toxic one, but love all the same.” 

For a moment, there was only the sound of waves crying out and the feeling of Wooyoung’s blood trying to burn its way out of his veins like acid.

“So what part of you is Love?” Yeosang questioned quietly, legs drawn up to his chest. “We have seen so much of the War inside of you… but where is Love?” 

Wooyoung laughed, turning and grinning at him as if he were a precious thing. “You live in ignorance, Yeosang.”

Yeosang frowned in offense, but Wooyoung merely shook his head.

“Love will never be able to outshine War,” he said, voice sounding ancient. “That is the way of the world. If it could, War would not exist. As it is, Love will always be overshadowed by War. Love resides inside me, but you may go centuries before you see it.” 

“ _ I _ can vouch for that.” 

They turned quickly, seeing Seonghwa standing there disapprovingly, as if they had been doing something wrong.

His arms were crossed tightly over his chest. “What lies are you filling his head with?” he accused, voice level and disapproving.

Wooyoung hummed, unbothered, turning away. “Just because your own nature is so cut and dry does not mean mine is,” he said calmly, his chest aching as heat pressed against it. Breathing was a little harder.

Wooyoung swallowed thickly, feeling a sensation close to the urge to vomit as his chest began to squeeze.

“I am a complex creature, Seonghwa,” he said smoothly. “I have  _ two _ unceasing powers warring inside of me, and I find it insulting to my struggles that you continue to try and sum it up in a simple declaration of being evil.” 

Seonghwa looked at him incredulously, eyes darkening in annoyance. “The people here are more complex than you give them credit for. Nothing is as it seems.” 

“And yet you would stand and insult me for my surface appearance?” Wooyoung posed, turning back to lift a delicate eyebrow. “Are you not guilty and standing there and condemning me with only a surface glance? Hypocrisy does not suit you, Seonghwa.”

He tilted his head upward, staring down his nose at Seonghwa who began to glare.

“What proof have you that there is nothing but hate inside of me?” Wooyoung asked haughtily.

Seonghwa didn’t answer, staring heatedly as he clenched his fists. 

“Don’t fight,” Yeosang said softly, turning away from them and staring at the moon. “You came here to get away from that, didn’t you?” 

Wooyoung chuckled, leaning back against the railing in hopes of being able to release the muscles that felt ready to snap his bones. “Something as trivial as a spat does nothing for me. Especially among gods, it would take a fight violent enough to sink this ship to matter any to the storm inside of me. Petty arguments are like a fly buzzing around.” 

A storm was beginning to press harder against Wooyoung’s skin, begging to be let out and released. Wooyoung’s jaw clenched tightly, imperceptibly.

“Very poetic,” Seonghwa said sarcastically, dropping his arms like he was bored of the conversation. “I’m going to get something to eat.” 

Yeosang hummed without looking at him, and Seonghwa turned without addressing him any further. Wooyoung hummed in amusement as he disappeared below deck, breath catching as a shot of pain through his chest. .

“I wonder how long it will take before they break,” he mused, voice tightening with strain to keep level.

“Break what?” Yeosang murmured.

“Those stupid opinions of me,” he sighed, leaning against the railing, pain gathering at the base of his skull. “It does have its moments of entertainment, but after so many centuries, it becomes horrendously dull.” He sighed heavily. “Always the same fight, always the same outcome.”

He winced as his chest shot with pain, his breath catching for a painful moment as he suddenly doubled over. 

A spark of red lightning lit up the dark night, and Yeosang looked over quickly, startled. “What was-” 

Another spark arced across his skin, like it had when he had first boarded, and Wooyoung flinched back as it felt like fire spread across his nerves, clutching at the area where the spark came from.

He gasped as he clutched at his skin, feeling like the roaring inside of him was finally pressing too hard. He grit his teeth, biting back a curse as he cried out, knees nearly giving out as pain began to course freely through him.

Yeosang backed a step away as more started appearing, staring with wide eyes. “What’s happening?” he demanded, voice afraid. He took a jerking step forward, like he wanted to help but didn’t know how.

“E-Excess power,” Wooyoung managed to gasp, clutching at his stomach so hard, his hands nearly hurt worse than the fire in his veins. “We’re g-getting farther from land. Farther from wars-  _ Ah _ !” 

He fell to the ground, hitting hard on his hands and knees that nearly gave out as they shook with pain and energy. His body trembled pathetically as he panted, more red energy gathered across his skin, wrapping around it like vines trying to snuff out a light. 

He tried to curse, but all that came out from a garbled cry as his arms gave out as he fell against the planks of the boat.

“ _ Wooyoung. _ ” 

Yeosang finally raced forward, kneeling down beside him and reaching for him- 

“ _ Don’t,” _ Wooyoung hissed, nails digging into the rough wood of the ship, the thrum of pain matching with his terrifying heartbeat. “G-Get Hongjoong,” he panted, red bleeding into his irises. “ _ Now _ .” 

The sight was terrifying enough that Yeosang obeyed, and even as Wooyoung could hear his pounding steps retreat, he felt the cavern inside of his grow larger at the silence.

_ Too much, _ his body cried out.  _ Not enough, too much-  _

Red lightning scorched the wood, and he cried out with each arc that leapt from his skin, breathing through gritted teeth. It felt like having each layer of skin stripped away, leaving him bare and raw-

Wooyoung cried out loudly as a wave of pain washed over him, larger bolts of lightning making the wood around him scorch and smolder-

He felt Hongjoong approach before he heard him appear.

Part of Wooyoung was crying to destroy Hongjoong’s presence. The other part was just screaming in mindless pain as his bloodied nails tore at the wood beneath him.

He could not recall a single pain comparable to this. 

Hongjoong paused at the other side of the ship before moving forward slowly.

Wooyoung managed to lift his head, seeing Hongjoong’s grim, cruel expression as he looked down on Wooyoung’s pathetically helpless body.

Wooyoung managed to grin through his body tensing and spasming. “You know what you have to do, don’t you, Sea Child?” he managed heavily. He cried out as energy sparked across his back. “I b-bet you’ve been waiting for this,” he panted, fists clenching weakly against the pain.

“Yeosang, go below deck,” Hongjoong ordered quietly, not taking his expressionless eyes off of Wooyoung. “Find Seonghwa and get him up here.”

Yeosang left only quiet steps behind him as he ran off again. 

The pain began to twist into something else as Wooyoung laughed, the sound wet and ugly and cruel.

Pain twisted into anger and rage as his muscles shook.

“The two of you could barely handle me before,” he panted roughly, shoving his legs beneath himself, even as his entire body trembled. He stood on shaking legs, power thrumming. “What makes you think you could do  _ anything _ to me now?” he taunted darkly, eyes bleeding to fully red- soulless and expressionless.

Hongjoong stopped a few feet from him, his expression grey and stoic.

“Before, we were in a battlefield,” he said calmly, voice almost gentle. “You had a territorial advantage.”

Hongjoong didn’t move, but waves suddenly crashed against the boat, shoving it to the side as salt water flooded the deck as wave after wave slammed against wood. The current of it rushing across the ship nearly swept Wooyoung off his feet as he clutched the railing for support.

Hongjoong’s eyes glowed an icy blue as they continued to stare at Wooyoung.

“You’re in  _ my _ domain, now.” 

Wooyoung growled as a gust of wind nearly knocked him off his feet, making him clutch the railing tighter as blood red eyes turned furiously to the side.

He clung tightly as the water and swirling wind slammed together like a hurricane around him as Seonghwa appeared as well, face stony. Even as Wooyoung watched, his eyes lit up a pearly white, glowing eerily in the dark storm.

Wooyoung had never seen the two look so cold before.

“We were young when you fought us before, War,” the Sky Child said, voice only loud enough to carry over the raging winds. “Don’t underestimate us centuries later.” 

War laughed, the strain of standing and keeping himself steady making his body ache. “You’re both  _ fools _ to think that only the two of you would be enough to fight me after centuries more of War!”

His vision was blurry, his fingers aching where they clutched at the wood.

Something was about to break. 

The power inside of them was a funny thing.

It ebbed and waned inside of them, and while too much of it would tear their human shells apart (as he could feel his skin heating), too little and it got desperate.

It got scared.

If a god ran out of energy, they would fade. It was within the nature of even gods to fear death.

He was getting farther from land, farther from war, and his nature was lashing out, but within a shell of human flesh, it had nowhere to go. 

His body knew it had too much power, but their greedy elements always demanded more.

Like taking food away from a starving child, it lashed out, despite having plenty.

All the pent-up energy needed somewhere to go, and there was only one way to ease it: use it.

And the only way he knew how to use it was to fight. 

War stumbled forward, disoriented and uncoordinated- drunk off pain, power, and hatred.

He stumbled, but a bull didn’t need precision to trample.

His eyes were glowing red, lightning burning its way across his skin as he flew into Hongjoong. Seonghwa grabbed him by the back of his shirt, and yanked him back.

Wind and water tore at his body- shoving him this way and that as brute strength and hatred fueled him to keep shoving back, lightning arcing from his skin and burning him as much as it scorched the ship.

All three fought with wild abandon. 

War lost himself to the rage and cry for more war, more hatred.

In the night, there was a red hurricane, sea and sky and blood meeting in a horrific but beautiful clash that threatened all who dared enter its path. 

~~~~~~~~

War woke to wet hitting his face. 

He blinked slowly, feeling empty, like he hadn’t eaten for days.

Blearily, tiredly, he stared up at the sky.

Grey clouds were gathered, gentle rain tapping his cheeks like little kisses, gentle and harmless. It was almost peaceful. 

He was laying on his back, eagle-spread, and he blinked hard, rolling onto his side with a quiet groan. His body ached almost too badly to move, his muscles tensing in protest to him turning over.

The first thing he noticed was the black scorches marring the wood of the deck he lay on. War sighed, lowering his head until it rested against the wood.

He felt weak, but more grounded than he had in… months. 

“Is that regret I see?” a voice asked curiously, and he lifted his head slowly to stare at a boy with an impish grin on his face where he sat on the rail nearby, one leg dangling over the edge, unbothered by the rain falling getting them gently wet. 

War swallowed around the dryness cracking his throat, pushing himself up onto his arms. “And you are?” he asked, finding it a bit difficult to breathe around his bruised chest.

“You really can’t tell?” he asked, tilting his head- something almost like amusement but slightly concerned in his eyes. War recognized him as one of Hongjoong’s crew, but never bothered with his name.

Despite the amusement in the boy’s eyes, he held his head with a certain pride, a certain grace, his smile broad. He sat on the edge of the boat, seeming unconcerned with how he dangled over the edge of the boat.

He swung his legs, but he did not lose balance- sturdy and grounded. 

The way he held himself made it seem like not even Seonghwa’s tornadoes could move him, if he chose not to let them. 

War managed to push himself up completely, so he sat, bracing his hands at his sides. His clothes were tattered, one leg of his pants ripped off to the knee and his shirt practically in ribbons.

“I was referring to the useless names everyone seems determined on having, Mountain Child,” he said bitterly, wincing. “Any god with brains can see the element another holds. What do you  _ want  _ me to call you?” he huffed in annoyance.

Pain tended to make him snappish.

The Child of the Mountain seemed pleased by his response, swinging his legs over into the ship and grinning, solid and reliable as the mountains that clung to the earth. 

“San,” he answered. “But I don’t really care what you call me. I’m just used to San.”

War snorted, lifting sarcastic eyes to the boy. “Your namesake must be so touched you chose to name yourself after it.”

San shrugged, not swayed. “It’s what I am. Why change it?” He smirked quietly. “Yeosang said he picked you a useless name, too.” It was teasing- stern and sure, as if he knew that nothing could ever move him, not even a weakened War.

San held himself with the pride of a mountain that had faced every other element and remained unmoved.

Oh, yes, he was Wooyoung now, wasn’t he?

“I figured if Hongjoong held them in such esteem it would benefit me to have one.” His eyes darkened. “What of Hongjoong and Seonghwa?”

He was not dead, so that meant they were not (he doubted the crew would be speaking so lightly to him if he had killed them). 

“You don’t remember?” he asked, smile muted slightly, like a shadow falling over a mountain peak. 

Wooyoung resisted the urge to roll his eyes, too focused on the bruise that had overtaken his entire body. “I remember nothing but the two of them arriving to fight me.” 

“Well, you missed a hell of a fight then,” a new voice said gravely.

Wooyoung stiffened, lifting his eyes higher than the railing that San sat on.

He had completely missed the presence of another boy hanging from the rigging.

He sat ten feet above them, legs hanging through the holes of the netting, head resting against the rough rope on the edge. He was much larger than San, and Wooyoung also recognized him from his first moment on the ship.

There was undeniable power within this one. Wooyoung had been too occupied with getting on the ship to notice before, but he felt it now- a dull thrum through the air around him.

Wooyoung could practically see light leaking from his skin even as the gentle rain fell.

“A Sun Child?” he questioned, blinking in surprise. “Shouldn’t you be hiding in a cave somewhere?”

They rarely ventured into places of full sun- too afraid of overloading themselves with their constant element. He supposed the overcast would help. 

He didn’t smile, but his lips upturned. “I go by Yunho. And I would only need to do that if I wasn’t skilled enough to control it. I caught on quick.”

Some gods were simply stronger than others. The faster you were able to learn to control the overpowering presence of your element, the better a life you would live.

Those of the more constant elements- the sea, the sky, the sun- either died within moments or were born with an inherent ability to better control their tiny little mortal bodies.

However, Yunho didn’t seem to be struggling at  _ all _ . Wooyoung wondered if that would last in the full sunlight, when the clouds cleared…

Yunho tilted his head, though, lips quirking like sunlight through leaves. “But you really did miss a great fight.” 

“More like terrifying,” San muttered, shaking his head. “I thought Yeosang was going to start crying. At the very least, you made a huge mess.” 

Wooyoung looked around the deck for the first time.

The scorch marks he had seen before were stretched across the wood- black scars, ugly and twisted, climbing up the mast that was splintered. They dug charred lines into the wood that spread out like some sort of disease.

One of the sails was in shreds, the door to below deck completely splintered across the deck. Part of the railing was missing in parts.

Wooyoung’s heart sank low in his chest, marveling that they hadn’t sunk the ship... 

“You really do look like you regret it,” San said, like it was fascinating, tilting his head. 

Wooyoung turned to him with stony eyes that held no anger. “I am not a barbarian, despite what Hongjoong and Seonghwa may have told you. I follow war and destruction constantly.”

All three of them gazed out on their ruined home.

“But I know its consequences well, and I gain no power from that,” Wooyoung muttered darkly. “I gain no  _ pleasure _ from that.”

He lifted his head to the sky, wondering if this rain was the aftermath of their fight… He felt the urge to shiver as the cool rain fell against his once-fiery skin.

“And I know where my debts lie,” he assured them lowly. “I would be dead by now if Hongjoong had not allowed me aboard. I would likely have torn myself apart last night had he and Seonghwa not aided me.”

It wasn’t guilt in Wooyoung’s chest. But it was an acknowledgement- a  _ responsibility- _ for the actions and damage he had caused.

His expression tightened. “I had not meant to ruin a place that was offered to me.” 

“We have material to rebuild,” Yunho assured him, also seeming fascinated with his response. “Hongjoong and Seonghwa are just resting for now, and we wanted to wait for them to begin.” 

“Are they alright?” he asked slowly, looking over at them, bracing himself for an answer. 

San nodded, lips tight, but his expression held no hatred. “Beat up to hell and back, but they’re not in any danger of dying. They’ll be fine in a couple of days. They’re resting now.” 

A couple of days’ rest was a lifetime to people like them who were living among their elements. They should have healed already, being so connected to their domains.

Wooyoung lifted himself carefully, wincing and testing his limbs. He ached, he was weak, but he felt more like himself than he had in years.

More grounded. Like his feet had touched solid ground after a century of floating.

He stood unsteadily for a moment before finding more strength in his legs. 

“Where are the supplies?” he questioned, glancing between the two of them. 

“Below deck,” San said, frowning and leaning back- unconcerned with how he dangled over the sea. “Why?” 

“Is everything needed down there?” Wooyoung asked, already moving towards the ruined door. 

“Yeah, but- What, are you planning on rebuilding the whole thing by yourself?” San demanded, and Wooyoung heard his feet hit the deck as he jumped down, footsteps solid and strong as he moved after Wooyoung. 

“I told you,” he said, pausing to turn. His eyes were dull, but they were determined. “I know where my debts lie. It was my doing that destroyed a place Hongjoong had found and built. It’s only right that I correct it.”

He turned away, stepping down into the underside and walking down a hall. Neither San nor Yunho followed him.

Someone came out of a cabin, almost running into him, and a tall boy leapt back, a small squeak of surprise. “You’re awake,” they said, a voice deeper than a canyon torn out of stone and rock speaking. 

Wooyoung hummed, glancing him up and down briefly. “Where are the supplies to repair the deck, Earth Child?” he asked without preamble. 

He frowned. “It’s Mingi,” he corrected. “And why?” 

“I wish to build a raft out of here,” he said flatly. “What else would I need them for?” 

Mingi huffed in annoyance. “Why do  _ you  _ need them?”

“I was feeling peckish and thought I would like a snack.” 

“You’re awfully sarcastic for someone who just regained consciousness.” 

“And you’re awfully uncooperative for someone who supposedly lives on this ship.” He sighed. “Nevermind,” he said, stepping around him. “I’ll find them myself.” 

“They’re in the storeroom,” he called after Wooyoung, making him pause. “Are you planning on rebuilding that deck?” he asked, trailing after him with a surprised expression.

“You’ve asked three variations of the same question,” he chuckled humorlessly. “I think you’d have gathered the answer by now. Thank you for your help.”

He walked down the hall, leaving him behind and finding a room with no door that held various pieces of wood and tools.

“Do you want help getting them up there?” He heard Mingi behind him. 

“There’s no need,” Wooyoung said simply, reaching down and gathering buckets of supplies. “I can manage.” 

“It’ll take you a few trips,” Mingi warned, and when Wooyoung gave no response, he simply bent down and picked up some boards, following him up to the deck, regardless.

Wooyoung did nothing but lift an eyebrow when he saw him helping. Upon his second trip back down, he turned around and saw San standing there, holding a pile of clothing.

“Here,” he said, staring directly at Wooyoung. “Since yours are sort of… ruined.”

Wooyoung had forgotten that he was wearing little more than shorts and a few rags. He set the boards down slowly, taking them. “Thank you,” he said, seemingly genuine.

San simply nodded, walking away and leaving Wooyoung to change into the regular clothes, not too different from his original. 

When the tools were gathered on the deck, Wooyoung wasted no time in getting to work, grabbing thread and string and heading to the mast. 

“Do you want-”

“I do not want or need help,” he said firmly as he grabbed the rigging attached to the sail. He glanced back stoically at the trio now watching him. “And I would appreciate it if you respected that wish and didn’t try to aid me. This is my fault to fix.” 

Everyone exchanged worried glances, but no one fought him.

It was rather intriguing, watching Wooyoung move from place to place, leaving it in much better condition than it had been before. Sometimes, San would swear he saw his hands sparking while he worked. 

He hoped that what happened last night didn’t happen again… the damage to the deck and his friends aside… Even the little he had been able to hear from below deck was not… something he wanted to repeat.

San existed so far from his element, he rarely felt enough power to have it crackling across his skin and burning him from the inside out… He vaguely remembered a time before being with Hongjoong when he would feel that overwhelming weight in his chest that felt like it was a mountain slowly crushing him…

That was so long ago, though, that San barely remembered what it felt like.

They didn’t try to help him rebuild, but when San disappeared below deck to get something to eat, he brought back a small plate for Wooyoung. War? 

Wooyoung. 

San hesitated before approaching, staring down at the little plate before walking forward confidently where Wooyoung was repairing the railing.

When he held it out to him, Wooyoung stared at it for a full minute.

Not in disbelief or disgust. He just stared at it almost… sadly.

San was sure for a moment that would refuse it, but he simply took it carefully in his hands. “Thank you,” he said quietly, something heavy in his voice. 

He set it aside and returned to work, muttering something about eating it in a minute.

San walked away, leaving him to work and wondered… if anyone had ever done something like that for him before. Any sort of kind gesture…

But, San supposed most people didn’t like catering to War. Or performing any sort of welcoming gesture…

He remembered the surprise on Wooyoung’snface when Yeosang had stood up for him, the weight in his eyes when he looked around the deck- seeing what he had done.

San wondered what it was like to live like that… 

Wooyoung ate quietly, setting the plate aside when he finished, and returning to work, silent and intent. 

“Do you think he really is horrible, like Hongjoong and Seonghwa act?” San asked where he balanced on the railing, staring at Wooyoung with a frown. 

Yunho stopped his conversation with Mingi, following his gaze as Wooyoung scrubbed at the scorch marks across the deck.

He was quiet for a moment, humming indecisively.

“I don’t know,” Yunho said quietly. “He doesn’t  _ seem _ it. I mean- sure, he seems like a bit of an ass, but who of us here isn’t one?” His brow pulled down gently. “Honestly, after that first encounter with him, he just seems…sad.”

“I guess it’s scary,” Mingi murmured, voice low and quiet. “He’s existed for longer than most of us, it seems. And Wooyoung’s right- until recently, killing each other was just what gods did. Anyone else was no better than him.” He frowned. “But he hasn’t really tried anything since he’s been here… Not on purpose, I don’t think.” 

The storm clouds cleared as time passed, giving better light to see by. San watched Yunho lift his face to soak up the sunlight.

Yunho was probably the most comfortable god San had ever seen in their element. Only in the height of summer did Yunho spend most of his time below deck, finally overwhelmed by the power flowing into him.

Even Hongjoong and Seonghwa had their moments of needing to recluse, to gather themselves back, to regain their hold on themselves… Yunho never seemed to need that.

The sun climbed higher into the sky and then lower, painting the horizon a soft pink as Wooyoung silently completed one task before moving on to another- focused and intent.

Night fell, and Yeosang emerged with Jongho from where they had been watching over Hongjoong and Seonghwa. 

“They’re fine,” Yeosang said tiredly before anyone could ask. “They woke up for a while. They should be back on their feet tomorrow.” His eyes trailed over to Wooyoung rethreading ropes that had been snapped. “What’s he doing?” he questioned, frowning.

“Repairing the ship as a way of apologizing for what happened,” Yunho supplied, still hanging from the ropes. “Don’t try and help or stop him, he’s on a mission.” He kicked Mingi‘s shoulder. “Let’s go, it’s our turn to make sure neither of them vomit and choke in their sleep.” 

Mingi swatted at the offending leg as Yunho swung down, landing heavily on the ground and stretching leisurely.

“I’m tired,” San sighed, finally sliding off the railing. “Watching him work is exhausting. I’m going to nap. You two are fine here by yourselves?” 

Jongho waved him off. “Go nap, lazy bones.” San didn’t even bother responding to the insult, just waving as he disappeared below deck. 

Yeosang and Jongho remained on deck as Wooyoung worked without word or pause, the moon (waning faster than it had last month) creeping over to the horizon.

Wooyoung finally hopped down from the ropes, walking over to them and sitting against the railing, breathing slightly heavily and wiping his forehead. 

“It’s too dark to work by, now,” he sighed, dusting off his hands. “But it shouldn’t take more than half a day tomorrow to finish up the last of it.”

He gazed around at the half-finished deck, eyes heavy.

“I truly did not mean to destroy this place,” he murmured. “I had not thought the excess power would manifest like that. Though, I should have. It was a stupid oversight on my part.” 

Jongho lifted a slow eyebrow. “Might want to tone down the self-deprecation a little. People might start to think you didn’t like yourself.” 

Wooyoung turned to him, eyes shockingly empty. “It is my nature to hate myself, Forest Child. I am Love and War.” 

“You said they were closer than people thought,” Yeosang said quietly, frowning in concern at the dull tone of his voice. “That they came together.” 

“They do,” Wooyoung said heavily, staring out blankly across the deck. “But they are polar opposites that happen to coexist, but it is not in harmony.”

He sighed, rubbing at his wrists that still ached from the fight. Yeosang drew his legs up so his knees pressed to his chest, hugging them loosely as he watched Wooyoung’s face reflect the faint moonlight.

“Love is all that is pure and good,” he said absently, eyes a million miles away. “And War is the worst of humanity, wrapped around darkness and death. And the two are forced to reside inside the same human shell.” He smiled bitterly. “It’s like shoving two same ends of a magnet together. They are the same… but they reject each other.” 

Yeosang stared sadly as Wooyoung shook his head, sighing as he stood, picking up his supplies and beginning to stack them into neat piles. 

He said nothing else the whole night, lost in his own thoughts.

~~~~~~~

Hongjoong woke up feeling like he’d been dragged behind the ship for twenty miles, but less exhausted than before. 

He sat up, brushing the hair out of his face and looking around his cabin. Everything was exactly how he left it, save for the chair sitting near his bed, probably courtesy of the crew. 

Seonghwa was absent, which meant they probably placed him in Mingi’s room- the only one with a window to let some air in. 

He swung his legs out of the bed, and suddenly remembered how he got here.

War. 

He stood, a little unsteady as his expression hardened, as he climbed the stairs to the main deck. He blinked hard against the bright sun, but his vision cleared and he saw a few of the crew scattered around, talking or staring out into the ocean. 

A bit of relief swept through his chest.

Well, at least everyone was still alive. He was sure one of them would have broken their necks tripping over the rubble- 

It was then that Hongjoong frowned, realizing that there weren’t pieces of splintered wood and scorch marks climbing every surface. Everything was… put together. 

“Hongjoong!” 

He focused in on Yunho and San sitting by the rigging Yunho was always hanging from, Jongho sitting back against the railing. Yunho waved him over from ten feet in the air, and Hongjoong complied, glancing around at the clean deck.

“You’ve been busy,” he noted, casually, grateful that his legs were strong enough that he didn’t stumble. “I thought you were going to wait for us?” 

“Wasn’t us.” Jongho shrugged in boredom, resting his head back against the railing. 

Before Hongjoong could even attempt to fathom what that meant, Jongho pointed up past Hongjoong.

He turned, following the gesture towards the crow’s nest where he saw War leaning over the side, appearing to be sewing together a torn sail.

At first, his instinct was to demand what he was doing, but he caught the anger before it left, turning back to them with a frown. “What is he doing?” he asked, much calmer than he intended before. 

“He’s been fixing it since yesterday,” Yunho explained, legs kicking. “I think the sails are the last thing that needs to be repaired.” 

“Why is  _ he  _ fixing it?” he stressed, some of the earlier annoyance slipping through. “What does he know about ship building?” he demanded. 

“We’re making sure he doesn’t miss anything,” San appeased, laying out on the railing. “We’ve been checking his work.” 

“He felt bad for what happened,” Jongho explained, stretching his legs out. “He hasn’t let any of us help him.” 

“ _ Felt bad _ ?” Hongjoong knew his voice was too bitter, too sharp, and the three of them lifted their eyebrows at him. 

“I was surprised too,” San agreed, frowning, the others nodding in assent. “But he’s been sincere in this. He didn’t want any help, saying it was his fault-” 

“ _ Yes _ , it was  _ his _ fault,” Hongjoong snapped, and San’s expression pulled down as he stared from the rigging. 

“And he realizes that,” he said firmly. “He’s trying to help. He said he never meant for this to happen. He regrets it.”

Hongjoong couldn’t help the laugh that escaped him. “He tried to kill me and Seonghwa,” he reminded them. “He’s  _ War _ . He doesn’t  _ feel bad  _ about the things he destroys.” 

“You’re wrong.” 

Hongjoong whipped around at the sudden voice, staring at War no more than five feet from him.

His expression was calm, but his eyes were darker- tired, strained, but more in control than before. Hongjoong stiffened, prepared for some sort of altercation. 

“It’s something you never understood, Sea Child.” Wooyoung chuckled flatly. “I’ll reiterate- it’s something you  _ refused _ to understand,” he explained slowly, eyes boring into Hongjoong. “I am not some heartless monster.”

The bitter laugh stuck in Hongjoong’s throat as he slowly formed a fist at his side.

It could never be good when War was this calm.

But Wooyoung simply continued to stare plainly, expression lax. “I was born among battlefields, and they are where I gain power. But you have always lived with the assumption that it is a fact of myself that I enjoy.” He glanced Hongjoong over slowly. “Is it not tiring? Living with such bitterness?”

“Your hypocrisy is showing,” Hongjoong grit out defensively. “As if you live your life puking rainbows.” 

“I have tried to let go,” Wooyoung said firmly, fingers curling tightly. “I let go of my pride, and asked for your help, knowing what you would do. I tried to bridge the gap between us- tried to explain the simple fact that I am what I  _ am _ , Sea Child, but I have  _ tried _ to change.” 

“You  _ never _ change,” he snapped, a ball of heat settling in his chest. Wooyoung stood there like he was innocent.

As if everything he had brought into the world was somehow excusable. 

From the first moment War had struck the Sky, the Sea knew it could never be forgiven.

“So I am a monster without hope of redemption?” Wooyoung demanded, and Hongjoong frowned at the barest of desperation in his voice. “That is what you’ve dubbed me? You allowed a heartless monster aboard your ship? Do you truly look at me and see only an evil force that wishes to destroy?” 

He stared at Hongjoong- eyes almost desperate in their apathy- but he silently demanded an answer.

Hongjoong opened his mouth, an emphatic  _ yes  _ on the tip of his tongue, but he saw the repaired deck around them… the supplies set in neat piles that had been used and separated. War, still holding a needle from fixing the sail.

The word stuck in his throat. And that only caused more anger to bubble in his stomach.

It was impossible not to feel the urge to fight. War had that effect on everyone.

But when Hongjoong glanced back at the other three of his crew, they didn’t look prepared to fight.

They just stared between the two of them, as if waiting for the first blow to be delivered. 

They looked at Hongjoong… and looked afraid of what he might do. They looked… more afraid of Hongjoong than of War…

Hongjoong froze where he stared at them, his heated blood growing cold.

Was it War making this rage build in Hongjoong? Or was it his own bitterness? 

Hongjoong’s jaw tightened as he tore his eyes away and faced Wooyoung once more. “You tried to kill a member of my crew,” he said, an air of finality. “For that, I can’t forgive you.” 

“ _ Hyung, _ ” Yunho broke in, looking ready to dispute his anger. 

“I have never asked for  _ forgiveness, _ ” War said sharply, taking a step back, expression twisting slightly. “I only wish for you to stop acting as if I am waiting to slice your  _ throat _ in your sleep. Save your  _ forgiveness _ for someone who deserves it.” 

“Well, that someone certainly isn’t you,” Hongjoong said flatly, ignoring the three behind him. 

“ _ For the sake of the gods _ , Hongjoong, I  _ know  _ that!” Wooyoung shouted, and Hongjoong took a step back on instinct, even if Wooyoung made no move towards him. 

His eyes flashed a weak red, flickering, as his fists clenched angrily at his side.

His posture and stature were raging… but his voice came across more desperate than angry.

“I understand that my entire existence is a crime!” Wooyoung shouted, voice layering over itself a dozen times, echoing. “I understand that  _ by my very creation _ , I am ruining the world, killing  _ innocent  _ people- people who have done nothing wrong in their lives- I gain power from the deaths of  _ innocents _ , Sea Child!”

Wooyoung beat his chest and Hongjoong winced subtly.

“This thing inside of me doesn’t  _ care _ if it's an enemy or my closest friend- their deaths and anger fuel me. Do you think me stupid enough not to realize that  _ my very existence  _ is a plague on the world?” He swallowed, eyes flickering to full red that began to burn. “Do you think me  _ heartless _ enough to be unaffected by that?” 

Hongjoong found no words inside his chest, his mind blank and afraid as his anger or desperation- whatever the hell it was- seemed to build.

“Wooyoung,” he heard San quietly, trying to comfort.

When had he gotten a name? 

“You have no need to hate me, Sea Child,” Wooyoung hissed, pointedly ignoring San. “I have hate enough for myself without your help.” He lifted a hand to curl in the fabric of his shirt. “Whether you believe it or not, there  _ is _ Love within me. And every  _ day, _ I feel it being swallowed, torn apart,  _ suffocated  _ by the War that consumes me-“

Wooyoung’s stoic expression had twisted, anger giving way to pain, like he was laying on the deck with lightning arcing form him once more.

Hongjoong barely dared to breathe as he watched Wooyoung appear to tear himself apart.

Not the godly side of him tearing him apart...  _ Wooyoung _ was doing this to himself.

“It is  _ dying _ , Hongjoong,” he hissed- somewhere between a cry and a shout. “Love is  _ dying _ \- overrun by War, being killed  _ slowly _ by a force it has no choice by to reside beside.”

He tightened his grip until his knuckles were white.

Hongjoong kept waiting for the lightning to appear across his skin, but it seemed like the storm inside of Wooyoung was being contained by his body.

“War is  _ killing  _ Love,” he spat, lips curling in disgust. “My own body is trying to kill itself by its very  _ nature _ . War is too strong. I took the only chance I had- I tried to get away, to lessen War, to try and feed into Love, to give it a  _ chance, _ but-” 

His voice cut off abruptly, and he pressed his lips together, and Hongjoong couldn’t name the expression in his eyes- whether it was anger or fear or agony. 

For a moment, even the sea and sky seemed to fall quiet- not a single noise breaking the quiet as Wooyoung stared at Hongjoong.

Suddenly, War blinked, and it was gone.

All the emotions in his eyes were shielded, leaving only an icy slate. The red had faded from his eyes, and it felt like staring at a statue made of stone- not even a hint of warmth or expression on his face.

It was eerie- a silence after a raging storm that made Hongjoong shift- unsure if they were safe, or approaching something far more dangerous than before.

But Wooyoung merely blinked slowly, emotions locked away tightly.

“I have caused you enough problems,” he said quietly, voice oddly dead. It held none of the power Hongjoong was used to hearing behind it. “I see now that attempting this was a mistake. It was foolish of me to assume my offenses towards you were excusable.”

Wooyoung slowly lowered his hand, letting it fall limply at his side as he ducked his head. 

War didn’t walk with his head down.

He walked like he owned the planet,  _ which he did-  _

But he lowered his head. “Find the nearest port,” he said, voice quiet, speaking to the wooden planks beneath his feet. “Leave me there, and I will find my own way.”

“Hey,” Yunho tried to protest, but Wooyoung didn’t even glance at him.

“I’ll thank you for giving me a chance,” he assured Hongjoong numbly, “but I think it was a mistake on my part. I will remain in my cabin until we reach land, and then I will leave you in peace.” He looked up, expression strained, and hesitated. “Believe me or not,” he said. “But I am sorry.” 

War turned on his heel, finally lifting his head, and froze in his tracks.

Hongjoong hadn’t even seen the others appear on deck, but Yeosang was standing, one arm helping support Seonghwa with Mingi on his other side.

Yeosang stared at War with wide, misty eyes. Hongjoong winced at the pain on the other’s gentle face.

Seonghwa’s expression was impossible to try and read through the strain of standing and walking, but Hongjoong didn’t think it was angry. It seemed… lost. 

Everyone’s emotions seemed to be misplaced and confused.

War stared at them, clearly not having noticed them either. He hesitated helplessly for a moment before his mouth closed.

Wooyoung lowered his head again and walked forward quickly. He gave the group of men a wide berth, but Yeosang turned with him, one hand reaching out.

“Wooyoung,” he said, and it sounded like he was begging for something from him, but Wooyoung dodged his touch, not even sparing him a glance as he descended the stairs and disappeared. 

Yeosang looked back at Hongjoong, and even though at the time he felt justified, now all Hongjoong felt was shame burning his stomach.

He could only stare back, lips pressed together tightly as his stomach churned.

Yeosang held his gaze for only a moment, not angry but  _ disappointed _ , before he pulled away from Seonghwa, the man still weak and tilting for a moment before catching himself on Mingi.

Yeosang raced down the steps into the underside of the ship, and Hongjoong’s jaw tightened painfully as he watched him go. 

He met Seonghwa’s eyes, and both had the same thought: perhaps they had made more mistakes than they could have ever realized. 

~~~~~~~~

Yeosang stared at the dark wooden planks for several moments, heart in his throat telling him to just  _ knock _ . 

But he didn’t know if he was prepared to talk to Wooyoung, to look his in the eyes after everything- 

Yeosang always thought it was hard during the full moons. When he felt so light, he might float away, and he wondered how Hongjoong could stand constantly being around the sea or how Yunho didn’t explode every time he sat in the sun.

He got a stone caught in his chest, painful and piercing during the cold months, when night lasted longer and the moon shone more brightly. 

His mind couldn’t even begin to fathom what it felt to hold two powers-  _ two of the strongest forces on this earth-  _ inside this weak little flesh prison. 

_ I have enough hate for myself without your help.  _

Wooyoung was not a monster. Nor did he enjoy the destruction that he was inherently drawn to.

How could Hongjoong say those things, how could he- Their captain wasn’t like that. He was never that harsh, that bitter- 

He was protective of his crew, but once it was clear Wooyoung meant no harm, he should have-

“Go away, Yeosang,” he heard Wooyoung’s voice through the door, making him jump. “I am not interested in holding a conversation about anything you heard or saw. I stand by my decision, and I’d like to spend my time in peace, if you don’t mind.” 

He spoke with such booming confidence before, but Yeosang could barely hear him now. He swallowed nervously. “Are you alright?” he asked instead of a million other questions. 

“I am not in the mood to speak,” he said in lieu of answering, and Yeosang wondered if that was an answer in and of itself. “Go.”

It was soft- a request, not a harsh command- and Yeosang almost fought it, almost kept pushing, but Wooyoung sounded so  _ tired _ , he couldn’t bring himself to intrude any longer. 

He traced his finger over the wood for a moment before stepping away.

“Let me know if you need anything, please.” He turned, not wanting to go back to the top deck, and returned to his room, laying on his bed and staring at his pillow. 

Wooyoung wasn’t evil.

Yeosang could see it- in every interaction he had had with the god. Wooyoung looked at Yeosang almost fondly- petting his hair and smiling in amusement at him…

Even knowing that he was War, Yeosang could so clearly see every other part of Wooyoung… How could Hongjoong and Seonghwa be so  _ blind? _

Yeosang knew that most people on the crew treated him gently. They all saw him as soft and innocent- smiling fondly as they cooed over his gentle element.

But if someone like Wooyoung were wholly war, how could he look at Yeosang the same way? Yeosang was more sensitive than the others, this was true, but this wasn’t emotional reasoning.

Yeosang  _ knew _ that Wooyoung was more than just War.

He wondered, startlingly, if returning to land would kill Wooyoung. He had said that his own forces were killing each other.

If Love died, would he just become wholly War, or would he cease to exist all together? How long would he survive on land- after just a couple of days ago, his power tried to rip him apart?

Yeosang’s eyes stung and he sat up quickly, pressing the heels of his palms to them and breathing deeply. 

“Hey.” He looked up sharply, seeing San standing in the doorway, expression sober. “Did you talk to Wooyoung?” 

His throat tightened as he stared at his knees. “He didn’t want to talk. I let him have some time…” He fell silent, waiting for San to say something, but the pressure in his chest burst out suddenly. “What if he fades?” he demanded quietly, staring at his hands. “What if we put him back on land, and he-” 

“Yeosang, he isn’t going to fade,” San said firmly, stepping forward and laying a hand on his shoulder. Yeosang glanced up at San, meeting his eyes sternly. “We’re not going to let him, understand?”

“But Hongjoong-“

“No matter what Hongjoong may do, he isn’t going to just let Wooyoung fade,” San said firmly, like he himself wouldn’t allow it. “He promised you- he won’t let what happened to Junyoung happen again, okay?” 

Yeosang clenched his eyes shut, but he still remembered it so clearly.

Running with the little Winter Child in the dead of December, who was barely born even a few months, still terrified of the world and clinging to someone he found wandering.

Yeosang had found him lying in the snow on a full moon, motionless and weakly crying for help. It was one of the worst winters in years, and Yeosang… he couldn’t just leave him.

For weeks, he practically carried Junyoung who could do little more than just lay there, curling up and crying into the snow that seemed to hurt him worse than fire.

But Junyoung was never… okay.

Some gods just weren’t. They were formed already too weak to handle the power within themselves, and they were born already dying.

Yeosang tried to get Junyoung away from the snowy mountain top that he had found him on, seeking out somewhere warming- somewhere not so cold.

They found Hongjoong at a port (well, Yeosang could feel them miles away, and he had dragged Junyoung with him, desperate for someone who knew more than him, who could help him). 

Hongjoong was already traveling with several of the others, and all of them had been beyond startled at the Moon Child practically dragging a half-dead Winter Child behind him, crying desperately for help.

Hongjoong and the others had tried their best. They tried everything they knew how, giving him more power, getting him to use his own power, anything- 

Yeosang was right there… watching Junyoung crying out in the bed, and then suddenly, he blinked and Junyoung was gone, leaving only the chilled icy air of winter in his wake.

It was a sensation that haunted him. 

Yeosang stayed with Hongjoong, but it was a while before he could stop waking up in a cold sweat, icy air against his face. 

He couldn’t see Wooyoung go through that. He couldn’t see  _ anyone _ go through it again. He couldn’t imagine the fear on his face, like Junyoung had.

“You can’t promise me that,” he whispered. He didn’t think Hongjoong would let Wooyoung die. Not now. But he did think that Wooyoung was done with them. “I don’t think Wooyoung’s going to stay, even if Hongjoong did try and help him now.” 

“Not that it’s much compared to what he said,” San muttered, “but Hongjoong does regret it. He and Seonghwa are talking. I’m not sure about what, but it probably has to do with Wooyoung.” 

Yeosang swallowed thickly, fists clenching loosely. “I won’t let him die,” he said firmly, knowing only this. “I-” He hesitated before standing from the bed. “I’ll go with him if I have to.” 

San stared at him, wide eyed, and too shocked to actually form words to dispute him. Yeosang wasn’t sure if he meant it, but it felt like the right thing to say.

~~~~~~~ 

Yeosang actually knocked on the door this time. 

When there was no answer, he sighed. “Wooyoung, I have food,” he announced, holding the plate firmly. No response. “The nearest port is still days away- you need to eat.” 

There was a pause long enough he was sure he was just going to ignore him, but then he heard a lock click and the door opened.

Wooyoung stared at him, bags under his eyes that spoke of how little rest he must have been getting. He sighed, opening it further. “You can put it on the desk.” 

He stepped inside the room and immediately froze. 

The floor was covered in scorch marks, a chair laid in blackened pieces, his blankets were torn and singed. His own skin was covered in soot and slight burns.

He almost dropped the plate in his hands, face falling in horror. “Wooyoung, what-” 

“Don’t call me that,” he sighed in frustration, taking the plate from him and setting it down harshly on the desk. “I’m not a human, I don’t have a name,” he snapped, turning on him with blazing eyes. “I tried playing your game of pretend, but now I’m bored of it.” He jerked his head towards the door. “You can leave now, Moon Child.” 

Yeosang almost followed, but his feet remained rooted in place. He stared at him and saw how angry, how sad, how broken he was… and he couldn’t find it within himself to move.

“Wooyoung, you can’t tear yourself apart like this-”

“I didn’t ask for your opinion.” It was angry, but it was so  _ tired _ . “Now, leave. I want to be alone.” 

“What will happen when you leave?” Yeosang demanded weakly, hands twisting. “What happens to you? You’d just head back towards War, you said it was too much-” 

“Stop worrying about me,” Wooyoung ordered, crossing his arms tightly. “It’s annoying. I survived this long without someone holding my hand, and I’ll do it again.” 

Yeosang stared at him before his eyes widened. “You’re going to die,” he murmured, blood cold. “You  _ know  _ you’re not going to survive.” 

“I’m not living much of a life here either, am I, Yeosang?” he snapped angrily, red sparking off his hands, making Wooyoung wince. “I was barely here a few days, and I’ve already nearly destroyed the ship, I attacked your captain and friend, I just keep finding ways to screw people over-” 

“Then I’ll go with you,” Yeosang said firmly, stepping forward. “I’ll stay with you at the port, and we can figure something out!” 

Wooyoung looked ready to snap- something building like a pot about to boil over… but he stopped, staring at Yeosang, as if wondering if he was being serious.

Yeosang tried his best to make sure Wooyoung understood how serious he was being.

Yeosang didn’t want to leave. 

But even more than that, he couldn’t bear to see another person fade. 

Wooyoung’s eyes scanned Yeosang’s face slowly, meticulously… And then the anger on his face faded slightly, and he stared at Yeosang with empty eyes.

“Yeosang…” It was quiet. “Stop,” he requested gently, staring at Yeosang with that same gentleness from before. “Stop thinking you can do anything. Stop trying to save me. You can’t save War. You have a family here. Stop acting like leaving it behind will fix anything.”

He was so resigned.

Yeosang tried to step forward again. “We can figure-“

“Just go,” Wooyoung sighed, turning away and walking over to his ruined bed. “I’m tired. I just… want to sleep.”

Yeosang already knew Wooyoung would never sleep. 

Wooyoung grabbed one of the posts to his bed, squeezing it with tight knuckles.

Yeosang was sure that Wooyoung hadn’t slept in centuries. And he wondered… just how badly he wanted to.

Yeosang didn’t decide to leave, but suddenly he was in the hall with the door closing behind himself. He stared at the wood of the ship blankly for a moment, his chest tightening painfully.

Wooyoung knew he was going to die. 

He stood there, stunned for a moment, before he raced down the hall, turning quickly and counting the doors until he found Hongjoong and Seonghwa’s cabin and shoved it open. 

Hongjoong jumped in his chair, facing him with wide eyes, and Seonghwa stiffened at the sudden noise where he was reading something at the table, frowning at Yeosang’s sudden appearance. 

Yeosang stared directly at Hongjoong, though, eyes stony. “Don’t stop at a port,” he demanded. 

Hongjoong’s shock faded to confusion. “Don’t- What?” he questioned, setting down his pen.

Seonghwa also lowered his book slowly, confusion and concern creeping between his brows.

“Don’t stop at port,” Yeosang repeated, just as strong, fingers curling. “Don’t listen to Wooyoung- don’t let him get off the ship at the nearest port. He’s never going to survive.” 

Hongjoong stared at the younger for several moments before sighing, turning away. “Yeosang, it’s his own decision-” 

“He’s going to die!” he shouted, and Seonghwa jumped at the sudden burst from their quiet friend. Yeosang didn’t care. “If you let him get off this ship now, he’ll fade within the week! You promised you were never going to let it happen again!” 

He had.

One night when Yeosang was sitting on the front of the ship, staring at the ocean in the middle of the night, still shaking from a nightmare of friends blinking out of existence, Hongjoong had found him, standing with him in silence for a long time before touching his arm gently.

“ _ It won’t happen again _ ,” he promised severely. “ _ I won’t let someone else go through that. Never again, Yeosang, I promise. _ ” 

Hongjoong pressed his lips together tightly. “Yeosang-” 

“If you let him get off this ship, I’ll never forgive you.”

Hongjoong paused, staring at Yeosang… not betrayed, but taken aback by the vehemence in his words.

Yeosang stood there, heart pounding and something itching beneath his skin. “If you just let him die like that- without even putting up a  _ fight _ …” His jaw flexed, eyes burning. “I’ll never be able to trust you again.” 

It didn’t matter if Wooyoung  _ was _ their enemy.

Yeosang had seen what happened when a god faded. The thought of it was enough to chill him to his bones- he couldn’t… he couldn’t stand to see it happen again.

Hongjoong stared in shock, but it was Seonghwa who spoke. “Yeosang… we don’t want him to fade either-” 

“You have a funny way of showing it!” he snapped, glaring at him. “You were both ready to turn him away when he first got here!” 

“How we acted before was wrong, but you can’t blame us completely,” Seonghwa said firmly, brows drawn down. “Times were different. War is older than any of us. He remembered the eras before- he was a  _ part  _ of them.”

Seonghwa waved a slow hand at Hongjoong, his other hand curling into a tight fist.

“Hongjoong and I were born in a time when gods were helping each other, they  _ coexisted… _ ” He shook his head sharply. “But War was still stuck in the past. We didn’t know how to deal with him, all we knew was that he was everything wrong with the world.”

“He’s not just-“

Seonghwa spoke over him, standing slowly. “How could we  _ not _ distrust him when he arrived here, after everything he had done? He tried to kill us both- why would we not assume he was here to kill the rest of you, too? Are we wrong for wanting to protect you?” he demanded. “Nature be damned, it’s a hard thing to overlook.” 

Yeosang opened his mouth, prepared to fight again, but it stuck in his throat.

Seonghwa was like the wind. Gentle and comforting on a good day… but fast and forceful enough to cut you, if you caught it wrongly.

Even without being sharp, the wind was more than enough to throw you off balance until you gave in and let it take you.

Seonghwa changed like the wind- gentle and then powerful in the blink of an eye. Angry and then calm… He was reasonable, but his emotions shifted in an ever constant vortex.

Even as Yeosang was trying to figure out a response, Seonghwa’s anger faded and he sat back down, expression calm but stormy.

Hongjoong cut in gently, having gathered his thoughts. “We’re not saying we were right,” he said firmly. “But we felt we were justified. And it’s true- we acted in ignorance. We didn’t _want_ him to be anything more than what we thought he was. We aren’t like you, Yeosang,” he said quietly. “We don’t just see the good in people.” 

Yeosang wanted to get upset, but he knew it was true.

The Moon was… mesmerizing, really. Yeosang couldn’t help but stare at it whenever he could, but it was also… it was gentle. Not as intense as the sun.

It had control- tugging at tides and waves as it pleased. It was also… constant. While it may change on the surface, its nature was unchangeable for centuries.

Its appearance was always shifting and changing, though. Waxing and waning with its needs, but not shifting as quickly as the winds. The moon accepted the changes to itself and its surroundings, and it simply continued on.

The Sea was ever changing, but too set in its ways to change, truly.

The Sky was ever shifting, but always retaining its same shape, in the end.

Yeosang bit back an accusation. He took a slow breath.

He swallowed, looking between them. He understood. Truly, he did.

He didn’t doubt that Wooyoung had been a formidable danger that they had faced. But the past was the past. This Wooyoung that was here with them now… he wasn’t that same person.

“Fine,” Yeosang said quietly, calmer. “Then prove that you changed your opinion of him. Don’t let him die. Don’t let him get off this ship yet,” he urged. “Prove to him that you’ve changed, that he’s different, that he’s not just a monster-” He stopped, the word tasting like vinegar on his tongue. “ _ Please _ ,” he said quietly. 

He gazed between them.

The people he had traveled with for centuries… and he begged them to help him save a life.

Hongjoong held his gaze silently for a moment before he sighed, rubbing at his forehead tiredly.

Yeosang hated forcing them into this position. He knew that Hongjoong and Seonghwa went through more than they would let on- he knew this was an extra stressor they didn’t need.

But Wooyoung’s life was at stake.

“I’m not going to let him fade,” Hongjoong promised quietly with a sigh, lowering his head into his hands. “But I don’t know what he’s going to do when we say we’re not going to listen to him.” 

Yeosang didn’t care. Didn’t care if he threw a tantrum hard enough to blow the ship away, he couldn’t let him fade.

He felt something slowly unlock in his chest, allowing him to breathe. “Thank you,” he murmured earnestly. “... Thank you, Hongjoong.” 

“We don’t want him dead,” Seonghwa assured Yeosang, expression calmer and more focused. “But he tried to kill us. That leaves a mark. But… we understand now that perhaps everything wasn’t as cut and dry as we tried to make it.” 

Yeosang did not blame them for their actions or their prejudices. He could only hope that they understood that there was more to Wooyoung than what they saw before. 

_ War is killing Love. My own existence is tearing itself apart.  _

Yeosang thought that “wasn’t as cut and dry” was an understatement. 


	2. War and Peace (No Such Thing)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just five days still feels like forever! ㅠㅠㅠ   
> Thank you for all the love and patience!! It really is appreciated!   
> I hope you guys enjoy this chapter, and the thickening of the plot!   
> I’m having so much fun, but I hope you guys enjoy it too! Have an amazing, safe day, lovelies!   
> Please let me know what you think!   
> -SS

Hongjoong called the others to the main deck, staring at them all.

“You’re all willing to let him continue on with us?” Hongjoong asked yet again, hands on his hips tightly.

“Hyung, we were willing before you were,” San said, frowning- not angry, but slightly accusing. “He doesn’t deserve to fade- we’ll tie him to a post to make him stay, if that’s what it takes.”

“It’s not going to be pretty,” Jongho muttered, stretching his arms above his head. “But I think Yeosang is right. There’s no way he would last long if we put him closer to shore.”

“He is likely going to resist being told to stay,” Seonghwa warned, expression grim. “Hongjoong and I don’t think he’s likely to become physical with anyone but the two of us, but he very likely isn’t going to look fondly on any of you.”

“We lasted through Hongjoong’s rebellious phase,” Yunho said, smiling quietly- amused, but understanding the weight of the situation. “We’ll take it in stride, hyung. If we can survive you and Hongjoong nearly destroying the ship during your hard times, we can make it through his.”

Even as Hongjoong was relieved at their open mindedness, he winced at the reminder that, really, he and Seonghwa had been almost as bad for this ship as Wooyoung had.

They, who had better control than Wooyoung could dream to have. 

Yet another twinge of guilt that felt more like a knife blade pressed to his gut. 

“Who’s going to break it to him?” Mingi asked, glancing between Hongjoong, Seonghwa, and Yeosang. “Or should all of us be there to control him when he inevitably breaks?”

“We do not need everyone,” Hongjoong assured them. “We’ll decide who should tell him later. I’m going to start taking us on a course further from land. Maybe the farther we go, the quicker he’ll recover.”

“Yeosang should tell him,” San said, nodding to Yeosang who blinked in surprise. “It’s clear that Wooyoung has some sort of soft spot for him. Even if it’s not a lot, he’s probably less inclined to try and kill him.”

Hongjoong shook his head sharply. “No. We aren’t going to-“

“I’ll do it,” Yeosang said quickly, looking at Hongjoong with innocent eyes ready to volunteer whatever it took. “I’ll tell him. San is right. He is more likely to get violent with you-“

Hongjoong began to glare. “That’s not-“

Seonghwa touched Hongjoong’s arm, giving him a quiet look when Hongjoong whipped to glare at him. 

“They’re right,” he said quietly, his grip firm and discretely comforting . “It’s probably safer for everyone if Yeosang does it. We can provide backup, but… he has more than enough reason to be averse to us.”

Seonghwa winced, but he didn’t seem conflicted about it at all. 

Hongjoong didn’t want to. He wanted to tear away and tell them that he wasn’t going along with something that foolish. 

He didn’t want to put any of his crew at that sort of risk. 

But he knew that… for whatever reason, Wooyoung wasn’t as aggressive against Yeosang. He wasn’t really aggressive towards  _ anyone _ but Hongjoong and Seonghwa.

Having one of the two of them do it was asking for disaster. 

Sending Yeosang was safest for everyone. 

But Hongjoong kept thinking of the way Wooyoung had almost smiled at Yeosang as he patted his hair, before.

Love… and the Moon, huh?

“Fine,” Hongjoong relinquished, expression dark, shoulders dropping as he glanced at Yeosang. “When do you think would be best to do it?”

Yeosang glanced at the evening sky. “When I bring him his dinner,” he decided quietly. “I think that will get him to at least open the door so I can talk to him. You can be nearby, but don’t let him see you. I don’t want him thinking I don’t trust him.”

_ You shouldn’t trust him, _ Hongjoong wanted to snap. He bit it back with a pang of guilt, swallowing the irrational anger.

“Then let us know when you’re ready,” He said, already turning away from his crew. “The rest of you, keep a distance until things slow down. We’ll call if we need you.”

Hongjoong left quickly without waiting for a response, hearing Seonghwa following after him.

His boots thudded down the stairs to below deck, the confined space doing little to make him feel better about it all. 

He heard Seonghwa call his name quietly, but he didn’t respond, glaring at the path he walked on. 

He almost wanted to lock him from their room that Hongjoong stormed into- his mind a little too noisy to want company.

_ Don’t let Yeosang alone with him. _

_ Shut up- He isn’t a monster. _

_ He’s going to hurt him. _

Hongjoong’s shook his head hard enough to nearly stumble. 

_ He’s more than that. _

_ Even if he is Love, he is still War- _

_ Shut up! We’re work on it- _

Hongjoong hadn’t even realized the ship was rocking until it gave an unsteady lurch, sending Hongjoong tumbling onto the ground as waves slammed into the side of the boat. 

He caught himself on the floor cursing as the ship continued to throw itself around-

Gentle hands grabbed his arms, helping him up, Seonghwa appearing with a gentle frown. “What on earth happened in the ten seconds I let you out of my sight?” he asked, both of them clinging to the walls as the violent rocking of the boat slowed as Hongjoong took deep breaths to calm his turbulent thoughts.

Hongjoong gently pried his arm from Seonghwa’s grip, turning and walking quickly to their cabin. “Nothing,” he said firmly, entering. “I’m just… trying not to hold on to grudges.”

“Hongjoong…”

“I know that there has to be more to him,” Hongjoong fought agitatedly, turning and leaning against the desk in the room as Seonghwa closed the door quietly. “But that doesn’t change everything he’s done-“

Seonghwa leaned against the door, watching Hongjoong calmly. “Calm yourself, or you’ll end up sinking the ship before he can,” he murmured as another lurch of the ship nearly knocked them over.

Hongjoong huffed, running a hand through his hair as he breathed.

He could feel it- the pressure of an entire earth’s worth of seawater pressing against his mind, begging for him to realize just how overwhelmed he was.

He closed his eyes, gripping the edge of the desk tightly to ground himself as he focused on anything but the weak little damn keeping his powers back.

As long as Hongjoong was able to ignore the roaring of the sea in the back of his mind, he could control it. He thought about dark earth and burning deserts far from any sort of water. A place where he would be weak and powerless-

Soft hands cupped his cheeks, and Hongjoong shut his eyes tighter, breathing a bit heavier as his nails dug into the wood. He could feel the ship stop rocking so much, but the pain that came with  _ not thinking _ was almost worse than just letting it overwhelm him.

Seonghwa’s hands warmed against his face. “Are you really that concerned for him?” Seonghwa murmured, and Hongjoong knew if he opened his eyes, he would find quietly confused eyes staring at him.

Hongjoong shook his head sharply- not an attempt to shake him off, nor a negative response- but more like an uncontrollable tick.

“Hongjoong,” Seonghwa pressed, the hands holding onto him tighter. “It’s true that Wooyoung attacked us- but you did not even know me when we first met him. You can let go of that-“

“Have  _ you _ let go of it?” Hongjoong snapped, looking up as the ship rocked dangerously. 

He tried not to think about it.

For Hongjoong, control was all about forgetting how strong his element was. Never thinking about the power trying to break free of him.

Well, he was thinking of it now.

And he kept replaying, over and over in his head, the sight of Wooyoung’s hand striking across Seonghwa and sending him flying the first time he had seen either of them-

The hundreds of bodies scattered around him, that  _ his _ element had created- 

Hongjoong’s stomach twisted into a tight knot, making his breath catch.

Seonghwa’s expression was quiet, but it clearly displayed the answer. “I’m not being hypocritical, Hongjoong,” he murmured, “but you’re going to break the ship if you don’t calm-“

The first spike of pain shot through Hongjoong’s core- making him cry out weakly as he doubled over-

No sooner than he had curled up did Seonghwa’s hands force him to sit up again, the pain intensifying at the rough movement-

Seonghwa’s hands pulled him forward until their lips crashed together- Hongjoong’s hands reaching forward blindly to grab onto whatever part of Seonghwa he could reach-

One hand found his hip and the other curled into the fabric of the shirt over his chest as Seonghwa pulled him closer, tongue working Hongjoong’s mouth open so fast, it made his head spin as he was assaulted with the taste of wind and sky-

Hongjoong had never known the wind had a taste, but he knew that it tasted like Seonghwa.

Seonghwa tugged him forward, barely giving Hongjoong time to breathe as he licked deep in his mouth, drawing out a low moan from Hongjoong who drew him closer as Seonghwa’s fingers sank into Hongjoong’s hair, grabbing on and tugging his head back as he deepened the kiss-

Hongjoong’s legs wrapped around Seonghwa, not letting him pull away, even if Hongjoong knew he wouldn’t.

Seonghwa’s other hand found its way beneath Hongjoong’s shirt, soft fingertips trailing over his chest and stomach- warm and gentle enough to make Hongjoong’s breath catch as he tangled his tongue with Seonghwa’s- 

Hongjoong stopped thinking about the pressure his dam was holding back.

All he could focus on was Seonghwa’s body waging war against Hongjoong’s- drawing his full attention to every detail. The hand in his hair, the fingertips tracing his skin, the body pressing him into the desk, and the tongue exploring Hongjoong’s mouth despite knowing every centimeter of it already-

Hongjoong didn’t know when it had started.

Well, he didn’t know when  _ this _ part of it had started.

It was quite amusing actually. 

You would have thought Hongjoong would realize that doing this with Seonghwa was a very good distraction from his power, and then he would have realized he had some sort of feelings for Seonghwa. 

But Hongjoong had felt something for the Sky Child from the moment he saw him standing among War.

Something drew him to him, something screamed at him to help.

And when War had run away, and the two of them were left, bleeding and weak… Hongjoong had turned to the other. 

Seonghwa had been pale, younger, and barely strong enough to lift his head to look at Hongjoong.

He felt a gentle wind ruffling his hair, making him close his eyes against the dirt that was kicked up.

He heard a pained cry from Seonghwa from the strain, but then the wind was shoving Hongjoong like a tumbleweed, sending him rolling painfully back into the water.

The sudden surge of power through him felt like an electric shock as he gasped, sinking the bottom of the river before swimming back to the top, gazing across the dirt as he half-layed on the riverbank.

He ached, but no longer felt like he had been completely drained.

Seonghwa still hadn’t been moving, and Hongjoong dragged himself from the water, managing to make it back to the other who had fallen unconscious, lips dry and cracked.

Hongjoong hadn’t known what to do, so he simply dragged Seonghwa to the riverbank, laying him down and carefully splashing water to clear away the dirt and blood. 

He could feel that Seonghwa belonged to the Sky.

But he didn’t know how to help him.

It was hours before Seonghwa woke, still weak, but grateful as Hongjoong spooned water into his mouth.

Somehow… they stayed together. Seonghwa merely sat beside Hongjoong, and Hongjoong remained in the river for some time. They didn’t speak, but Hongjoong felt no urge to leave.

He remembered, a hundred years prior, a Child of Flame had met Hongjoong while a seaside village had burned to the ground.

He had smirked- eyes fiery and limbs red with burns. “A Sea Child?” he laughed. “Where’s your Sky Child?”

Hongjoong had frowned. “What-“

“You haven’t found him, yet?” He demanded, shocked. Hongjoong could tell that the Flame Child was older than him by a long time. “How long have you existed?”

Hongjoong shrugged. “Long enough.”

The Flame Child had laughed. “Well, one day you’re going to find a Sky Child. Sea and Sky always find each other.”

“Why?” Hongjoong had asked ignorantly, making the Flame Child laugh as the flames on the village grew higher.

“The horizon!” He had pointed towards the horizon that was barely visible through the smoke. “Sea and Sky are destined to be together… Always near, never touching, is what they used to say.”

“I won’t touch him?” Hongjoong had demanded.

Flame snorted. “They used to believe that,” he chuckled. “But in the end, you’ll likely just be unable to stand each other.”

“Why-“

“Because of your nature,” he said without letting Hongjoong finished, grinning. “The Sea is never still- unable to stay in one place. The Sky is wild- vast and endless. You are both too untamable. Sea and Sky are never able to tame each other, though you may try.” 

Hongjoong had believed him for the following centuries.

But when Seonghwa asked Hongjoong if he had nowhere to be… Hongjoong merely shook his head.

Hongjoong had a ship. He’d had it for years, but never felt a need to utilize it. He had no reason to use it- coming and going among the sea as he pleased.

Part of him hated the ship- something containing and suffocating about it. But after the third day of Hongjoong and Seonghwa doing nothing but existing near each other… Hongjoong offered Seonghwa a place to stay on his ship.

The rest was history.

For a while, Hongjoong believed the “always near, never touching” thought because he and Seonghwa kept circling around each other like there was some invisible force keeping them apart.

They were drawn to each other, getting impossibly close before one or both of them would float away again, glancing to see if they had noticed.

It only grew worse with time.

Small touches and looks that made Hongjoong think that the two of them were seconds away from having the sky come crashing down into the sea-

They always pulled away at the last second, though.

For nearly five decades, they existed without touching. Until the day that Seonghwa stood beside Hongjoong on the deck- both of them watching the sun setting and painting the horizon in blinding colors.

“You know,” Seonghwa had murmured peacefully, a small smile on his lips. “Someone once told me… that I was destined to meet a Sea Child.” He glanced at Hongjoong- his face backlit by the setting sun. “That I was destined to be drawn to him… but never touching. I never thought I would regret that… until now…”

Something snapped in Hongjoong as he saw Seonghwa’s eyes grow sad- like there was nothing worse that he could imagine.

He jerked Seonghwa down, kissing him fiercely, with all the desire and magnetism that he had been feeling pulling him further and further for half a century-

It was like breaking whatever force had been shoving them apart as Seonghwa fell into him without hesitation, drawing Hongjoong impossibly closer, almost clawing at him, like he thought that Hongjoong might try and pull away.

That night, sea and sky met for the first time in millennia.

The sea and sky were wild and free, but Hongjoong had never seen Seonghwa as something tying him down.

Hongjoong grew to love Seonghwa over decades, his stomach and blood performing tricks that he, at first, thought was his power raging against him, but he soon realized it was directly related to when Seonghwa smiled at him, brushing gentle touches against Hongjoong as he passed.

Hongjoong had been alone for centuries, convinced that this was just what gods did. They lived alone, passing other gods briefly, but ultimately being contained to their element.

After meeting Seonghwa, Hongjoong never wanted to be alone again. And he whispered that to him as sea and sky met almost nightly, their bodies wrapped around each other as their elements reflected them outside their cabin. 

Hongjoong forgot, though, about how powerful the both of them were. 

Things were good… until they weren’t.

Until the first day that Hongjoong began to lose himself.

Until the day that Seonghwa had been attempting to sleep, and opened his eyes to the boat nearly being capsized- the massive waves threatening to drown the ship and cast them into the depths-

Seonghwa found Hongjoong in the throes of some waking nightmare.

Hongjoong had not had them for decades- since long before he met Seonghwa. They were like daydreams he couldn’t break free from- the sensation of the entire weight of the sea sitting on his chest. 

Seonghwa found him on the floor, staring blankly into space as he cried with eyes wide open-

Seonghwa had shaken him frantically, drawing him up from the ground, but not before the ship was thrown into rocks beneath the waves, tearing away half the hull as Hongjoong jerked into a semi-awareness of the fact that Seonghwa was there.

Hongjoong’s power was directly related to his awareness of it. And when he grew afraid, he started noticing his power more- the sensation of holding it back similar to the ball of icy fear in his chest.

Hongjoong knew that Seonghwa was there, that he was not alone again, but he had already become too aware of the dam threatening to break inside of him.

He was losing his hold on himself, skin growing hot as his eyes glowed blue uncontrollably as he groped for Seonghwa- so lost within his panic that he couldn’t even speak.

He had cried, clinging to Seonghwa desperately- no longer afraid of losing him, but knowing that he was rapidly approaching a total loss of control.

He didn’t want to die.

Vaguely, Hongjoong had been aware of Seonghwa yelling at him, but he couldn’t hear anything but the sea roaring.

The Sea that was vast and endless and always crying out to him- screaming and demanding more and more- 

He had no more to give-

The Sea was so loud, it was so endless- How could he stand against it? Him, in such a weak little human prison, trying to embody the vast terror that was the Sea-

Seonghwa kissed him- fearful and desperate and screaming himself hoarse as the ship slowly began to take on water, too afraid to think to do anything else, helpless.

Hongjoong had choked, too lost to do anything, to hear anything beyond the waves and wind roaring-

Seonghwa pinned Hongjoong to the floor, kissing him desperately, hands holding onto Hongjoong tightly enough to bruise- 

It was like a fishing hook being caught in Hongjoong’s body- sharp and painful, but a line tying him down, yanking him desperately back towards safety.

Hongjoong had never experienced drowning before, but he thought this was what it felt like.

Like his lungs were going to burst open, his head spinning as everything in his body seized-

For a terrifying… terrifying moment… Hongjoong had felt like everything was about to break apart. 

But after a split second of nearly tipping over the edge, he felt Seonghwa’s nails digging into his arm hard enough to draw blood.

Like an arrow hitting its mark, all of his attention- every inch of his mind and body- slammed into focus at the pain that shot through his arm.

Seonghwa tried to pull away, but Hongjoong grabbed him, holding him against him frantically as he slammed their lips back together.

It was almost as painful as the nails digging into him, but Seonghwa didn’t resist as Hongjoong held onto him like he was his last source of protection-

Even as Hongjoong cried and sobbed into Seonghwa, he didn’t pull away.

Hongjoong’s mind zeroed in on every touch- the lips on his, the hands squeezing him, the body pressing him into the rough wooden floor.

Slowly, Hongjoong’s mind left behind the roaring sea screaming for him.

Slowly, Hongjoong lost the tension that threatened to snap him in half, falling limp against the floor-

Seonghwa didn’t stop kissing him, touching him, crying as he held onto Hongjoong- like a human desperately afraid to stop giving CPR, afraid of what might come if you stopped-

Hongjoong barely had the strength to hold onto Seonghwa’s shirt with one hand, eyes clenched shut as he slowly felt the waves recede, leaving him breathless and his chest heaving.

He came to some time later, head pillowed in Seonghwa’s lap on the sandy shore they had washed up on.

They picked themselves back up slowly… and continued on. 

Being with Seonghwa was grounding- a distraction from the storm raging in the back of his mind. It wasn’t often that he or Seonghwa began to slip up, but they had found that they were usually able to draw each other back- especially if they could catch themselves before it got bad.

So now, even centuries later, Hongjoong still clung to Seonghwa tightly, drawing him close and letting the presence of Seonghwa’s body against his ground him away from the sea that began to scream at him.

Hongjoong tore their lips apart, dropping his head against Seonghwa’s chest as he tugged Hongjoong forward, practically encasing Hongjoong’s body with his own.

For a simple moment, Hongjoong felt Seonghwa’s body pulse against his, giving him a rhythm to follow other than the ebb and flow of the waves in his mind.

Seonghwa’s grip was bordering on painful, but that was when it worked best- giving Hongjoong something to focus on.

When Hongjoong’s grip on Seonghwa slowly relaxed, Seonghwa waiting another moment before slowly loosening his hold on Hongjoong, allowing him to pull away, breathing thickly.

“’m okay,” he managed, head ringing slightly, but the waves successfully silenced. “Sorry…” 

Even though they parted, Seonghwa still kept a firm hand on Hongjoong’s waist. He scanned Hongjoong’s pale face for a moment. “Rest in here,” he said quietly. “I’ll take care of anything that happens with Yeosang and Wooyoung.”

“No,” Hongjoong said firmly, shaking his head stubbornly. “I- I need to be there-“

“Then we’ll both wait in here,” Seonghwa remedied, rubbing a thumb on Hongjoong’s hip soothingly. “It’s close enough to their cabin. We can still help if need be.”

Hongjoong still felt off kilter, leaning back into Seonghwa’s chest.

In the beginning, both of them had shied away after their elements got the better of them. Something almost ashamed in them- but after enough time had passed, they saw it as nothing more than it was: a part of themselves.

Seonghwa massaged the back of Hongjoong’s neck slowly, making him relax a bit, even as he frowned against Seonghwa’s chest.

“Do you think it’s true?” he murmured weakly, muscles aching. “That Wooyoung is fond of Yeosang?”

There was a pause, only the sensation of Seonghwa’s hand massaging his neck to ground him. “He definitely seems to look at him differently. I think Yeosang definitely has the best chance out of any of us to make Wooyoung listen or change.”

Hongjoong didn’t like that. Didn’t like that there was a potential danger, and he had to entrust it to his crew.

To someone like  _ Yeosang. _

It was no coincidence that Yeosang had found Hongjoong.

Where gods were involved, there was no such thing as fate or luck. Hongjoong’s powers steered their boat, pushing it to and fro wherever his whims took them.

To Hongjoong, he had originally intended to head for a port beyond the one they found Yeosang at. But almost against his will, he found himself steering them towards the nearer port, confusing the others.

“I just…. have a feeling,” Hongjoong had said, staring at the port as they neared it. “Be on guard. Something might happen.”

It wasn’t coincidence that Yeosang located them, that when he begged for help Hongjoong gave in almost immediately. That when Yeosang had sobbed for his lost friend, Hongjoong offered him a place with them.

That, no matter the request, if Yeosang asked it of him, Hongjoong had hard pressed to deny him.

The Moon controlled the tides and the Sea. It pulled and pushed them on its whim- stronger when it drew near and releasing when it drew back.

Hongjoong was no slave to Yeosang, but their relationship was something special.

Like the Sea and Sky, they were connected by their nature.

In the same way that Forest and Mountain were connected- Jongho and San having stopped and stared at each other in blank shock the first time they met. In the same way that it had taken the Sun and Moon some time to grow used to each other’s presence- Yeosang actually frightened of Yunho for a while after he had joined.

Their natures were all intertwined- as natures were meant to be. Earth and Sky, Sun and Forest, Mountain and Earth, Moon and Sky- it was no coincidence that it was these gods that found each other.

Each of their relationships was special.

And Hongjoong very much saw Yeosang as someone he needed to protect. After everything the other had been through… 

“We have to trust that Wooyoung will see reason,” Seonghwa murmured. “Or that Yeosang will be able to make him see it. Maybe it has to do with what Wooyoung mentioned… about Love and the Moon…”

Hongjoong sighed quietly, shaking his head. “I need to stop worrying,” he muttered quietly, rubbing at his eyes. “It’s only going to make things worse… Maybe I should just avoid Wooyoung for a while…”

“Whatever will keep you and the crew safest,” Seonghwa agreed. “It’s something we’re just going to have to take step by step.”

Hongjoong tilted his head upwards, kissing the curve of Seonghwa’s jaw gently. “Thank you,” he murmured, making Seonghwa chuckled, squeezing his hip.

“You-“

_ Knock knock _

Hongjoong lifted his head, staring over Seonghwa’s shoulder, already knowing what it was.

“I’m bringing Wooyoung his food now,” Yeosang called quietly.

Hongjoong took a moment more to squeeze Seonghwa’s arm before stepping away. “Alrighta,” he called, walking towards the door.

Seonghwa’s touch trailed until Hongjoong drew too far away to touch.

~~~~~~~~~

Yeosang knocked on Wooyoung’s door, holding a small plate of food.

Hongjoong and Seonghwa were waiting in their cabin down the hall, prepared to come help if need be. (Yeosang knew it had something to do with the mini storm they had experienced only moments ago. No one brought it up, too used to these occurrences by now.)

But he was determined to ensure they didn’t need to come.

It was silent after he knocked, and Yeosang did it again. “Wooyoung,” he called, knowing that over the past days, his name had continued to be a sore spot. “You need to eat. You haven’t eaten anything all day-“

There was a small noise on the other side, making Yeosang stop and listen intently, hearing things shuffle and the sound of wood dragging against wood.

“Wooyoung!” he called again, louder, knocking harder. “Wooyoung, you need-“

The lock clicked, making Yeosang cut off as the door opened very… very slowly, only open enough for him to see half of Wooyoung’s face through the crack.

Wooyoung glared at him- eyes gaunt and angry, but so tired. “I said… to stop calling me that,” he said dully, looking like he was leaning heavily against the wall to stay upright.

Yeosang bit back the wave of pity in his stomach. “You look dead on your feet,” he said bluntly. “You need to eat. You should try and sleep-“

“You think War sleeps?” he laughed bitterly, voice quiet and low- like creeping through a cave.

Yeosang pressed his lips together. “I have food for you.” When he placed a hand against the door and pushed gently, it opened without resistance- whether Wooyoung didn’t care to stop him or was too tired to, he didn’t know.

The room was… worse.

The mattress had also been burned and torn apart, the wood and walls blackened and burnt, and everything paper in the room sitting in piles of ash.

Yeosang swallowed quietly as he set the plate down on the part of the desk still intact. He turned slowly, resting his back against the half-desk, staring at Wooyoung.

He stood like a drunkard, shoulders hunched and head low as he braced on hand on the wall.

Even as concern drew Yeosang’s brows down, fear made his blood turn cold. Wooyoung was going down some sort of road fast, and Yeosang didn’t know which road it was.

Wooyoung looked up through his hair at Yeosang- glaring darkly. “You’re scared of me,” he muttered.

“I’m not,” Yeosang said without hesitation.

“I can see your fear. It’s an essential part of War,” Wooyoung muttered under his breath, shifting along the wall slowly.

“I’m not afraid of you, but I am afraid,” he admitted quietly, voice falling quieter as Wooyoung stopped, staring at a half-burned book, kicking it aside.

“Afraid of what?” Wooyoung posed, turning back to Yeosang, looking at him from head to toe. “I’m sure you’re afraid of all manner of things, Moon Child. Your kind are always so timid.”

Yeosang didn’t wince at the insult, but he pressed his lips together. “I’m afraid for what’s going to happen to you,” he said, without addressing his insult.

Wooyoung barked a bitter laugh, turning and resting his back heavily against the wall like it was the only thing keeping him up. “You should be more afraid of what’s going to happen to your little crew… especially with me on board.”

“Going back to land is going to kill you,” Yeosang pressed, voice hardening with confidence. “You know this. You’ve always known this.”

Wooyoung ran a hand through his matted hair, clearing his pale expression for a moment as he stared at Yeosang, unimpressed. “And?” he posed roughly. “If I did?”

“I’m not going to let you get yourself killed,” Yeosang said, expression tightening. “I’m not going to let you fade.”

“Well, that’s not really your choice, is it?” Wooyoung scoffed. “Your captain is going to drop me off at the nearest port- and you can follow me like a lost puppy all you like,” he taunted. “You think your presence will make a difference in the end?”

Yeosang’s fingers curled into defensive fists.

_ Why? _ Why would Wooyoung want to fade so  _ badly- _

His nature was to hate himself.

“He’s not,” Yeosang said firmly.

“Pardon?” His voice dripped with dark sarcasm, making Yeosang straightened, more determined after seeing what Wooyoung was doing to himself.

“Hongjoong isn’t dropping you off at port,” Yeosang said firmly, watching as Wooyoung’s eyes clouded in confusion. “I begged him not to,” he said sharply, unashamed. “I begged him not to let you fade. He’s not stopping at port. He’s already steered us towards more open water- farther from land.”

Wooyoung’s face seemed frozen in confusion, frowning at Yeosang for several moments before it slowly began to darken.

His fists formed at his sides. “You what?” he whispered, voice eerily quiet.

“I-“

“That wasn’t for you to decide!” Wooyoung suddenly yelled, taking a step forward. Yeosang did not shrink back, though he stiffened slightly.

“I’m not going to let you fade,” he snapped, taking his own slow step forward. “I’ve seen it once- I’m not going to let it happen again!”

He would not watch another person go through that pain.

Wooyoung’s eyes flickered red rapidly- like he was frantically trying to call enough power to turn Yeosang to dust. The red grew bright and then faded as it finally swallowed his irises.

“You think you get to decide people’s lives?” Wooyoung shouted, the air around him seeming to heat. “What gives you the right- I told you to bring me to port!”

“You are going to die, Wooyoung!” Yeosang yelled back, voice rising the more angry Wooyoung became.

“I said stop  _ calling me that _ !”

Lightning leapt from Wooyoung’s skin, scorching the floor, though it was already so blackened, you barely saw it.

Yeosang was not afraid. But he was wary and concerned as he stared at Wooyoung stiffly. “I’m not going to let you kill yourself,” Yeosang managed quietly, voice shaking but not in fear.

“That isn’t your decision!” Wooyoung roared, lightning striking the wall hard enough to leave a gouge in the wood-

“It isn’t yours either!” Yeosang shouted, surging forward angrily until he and Wooyoung were suddenly much closer. “You said it yourself- killing War kills Love!” Wooyoung’s eyes flashed a brighter red. “Would you rob the world of Love just because of your hatred of War?”

“Your captain has been pushing for nothing but that since I arrived!”

“He didn’t!” Yeosang fought loudly, feeling something twisting in his stomach. He ignored it. “That isn’t what he wants- not anymore!”

“He doesn’t get to change his opinions now that it’s convenient!”

“It’s not ‘convenient,’ it’s saving your life, Wooyoung!” he cried desperately. 

“Love and War will still be reborn!” His voice began to layer, over and over like a dozen Wooyoung’s shouting as the red swallowed the whites of his eyes, leaving pools of bloody red light hot enough to burn-

“But  _ you _ will not!” Yeosang fought, his skin heating from Wooyoung, but he didn’t step away, even when Wooyoung took a step that brought them only a foot apart. Yeosang stood his ground. “Love and War will live on, but not you! I’m not trying to save Love or War- I’m not letting  _ you _ die!”

Wooyoung’s expression twisted in disgust. “You’re an ignorant fool, Moon Child,” he snapped, layers and layers of voices making it too loud-

“Better ignorant than a coward!” Yeosang yelled, fists shaking as the knot in his stomach tightened painfully.

His eyes were stinging, but he didn’t think it had anything to do with Wooyoung’s power.

“You’re trying to run!” Yeosang snapped, knowing that something was about to snap.

Wooyoung’s eyes stared at him, swirling with anger as his knuckles turned white around his fists, his entire body shaking-

“Save your pity for someone who cares for it!” Wooyoung snapped, eyes flaring-

“You’re tired of fighting to live, so you want to die!” he yelled, nails digging crescents into his palm.

“Shut up!” Wooyoung yelled, body tensed and lightning flashing around the room-

“I’ve already seen one god die- He didn’t  _ want _ to die!” Yeosang cried, eyes burning. “I’m not letting you do it on purpose because you’re too afraid to live!”

Wooyoung drew his hand back sharply.

The hand that struck him across the face burned with the lightning that arced off it. Yeosang didn’t even have time to brace himself before he fell to the ground, clutching at the throbbing, burning skin of his cheek-

However, the cry of pain that echoed throughout the room didn’t come from him.

Yeosang looked up sharply as Wooyoung cried out- something broken with agony, as if Yeosang had just buried a knife in his chest.

He heard and felt Hongjoong and Seonghwa appear behind him, but he was staring at Wooyoung-

Wooyoung… whose hand was suspended in the air as he stared at it in horror… as if he couldn’t believe what he had just done.

Horror spread across Wooyoung’s face as he looked at Yeosang on the ground, hands clutching at his cheek that was certainly bruised and burned.

There was no more red in his eyes- like a storm that had suddenly cleared.

Clear eyes stared at Yeosang as his hand trembled. He clutched his hand slowly to his chest- crushing the hand that had struck Yeosang tightly.

He shook as he stared at Yeosang.

As if he had never meant to strike him. As if hitting Yeosang had broken some sort of spell. As if he was horrified that he had done it-

Within the course of a few seconds, Yeosang was struck, Hongjoong and Seonghwa appeared, and Wooyoung dropped to his knees beside Yeosang.

He froze as Wooyoung lunged at Yeosang, wrapping tight arms around Yeosang and drawing him close.

Yeosang felt his body shaking with sobs before he felt the slick wetness against his hair as Wooyoung embraced him hard enough to hurt.

Wooyoung shook worse than Yeosang, kneeling on the ground and holding Yeosang at an odd angle, but he clutched at Yeosang, sobbing openly in regret-

Yeosang’s cheek throbbed, but he barely noticed it around the whiplash from Wooyoung’s emotions, stunned and more afraid of this than he had been of Wooyoung’s anger. He was aware of Hongjoong and Seonghwa hovering behind them.

“I’m sorry,” Wooyoung hissed, strained, as if he had a weapon buried in his chest- face buried in Yeosang’s hair as his hands wrapped around Yeosang tightly, as if his embrace might fix what had happened. “I-I’m sorry,” he cried, hands shaking and burying his face further into Yeosang-

Shaking hands stroked his hair gently, like trying to calm a spooked animal, despite the fact that Yeosang had not moved-

“I didn’t- I didn’t-“ Wooyoung shook his head, breathing shakily, brokenly, as if he was so disgusted with himself-

Yeosang wasn’t quite sure… why Wooyoung felt such guilt, especially given that the wound on his cheek would likely heal by tonight.

Wooyoung acted as if he had just run Yeosang through.

“I’m sorry,” Wooyoung hissed, stroking Yeosang’s hair almost frantically. “Please, I’m sorry- I’m not- I never meant-“

Yeosang’s hand managed to wrap around Wooyoung’s that was desperately stroking his hand, holding it gently.

Wooyoung’s arm continued to jerk in Yeosang’s grip, like he was trying to continue comforting him-

“Wooyoung,” Yeosang said, speaking and moving his jaw making his cheek throb, but he ignored it.

Wooyoung’s entire body jerked at the name, as if it was Yeosang that had struck him, his fist clenching desperately as Yeosang held his wrist.

“It’s okay,” Yeosang said quietly, squeezing his wrist gently-

“It’s not!” Wooyoung snapped, but it was quieter. He tried to move his arm, but Yeosang held it in place. “It’s- I- Take me to port,” Wooyoung hissed, still trying to pull away from Yeosang but failing.

Yeosang wasn’t holding him that tightly.

“Take me to a port and leave me there-“

“No.”

Wooyoung finally pulled away, but it wasn’t anger in his eyes, even as he glared at Yeosang. It was something like desperation.

But something lost.

As if Wooyoung could see no other option but this. But this one, that led to his death and his ruin.

“You don’t get to decide whether I live or die,” Wooyoung hissed brokenly.

“Neither do you,” Yeosang said firmly, eyes darkening. “Neither of us have that right. But all you have to do is kill us and take the ship to port.”

Wooyoung’s arm jerked, like a flinch, though his face didn’t shift.

Yeosang stared at his eyes- dark brown meeting light. “If you’re going to kill yourself, you’re going to have to kill us, too.”

“I’m not-“

“Then you’re not going to be able to die,” Yeosang hissed, finally releasing Wooyoung’s wrist. “If you aren’t strong enough to take the lives of seven others, you don’t get to take your own.” He stood quickly, leaving Wooyoung kneeling on the floor.

“Do you not  _ realize? _ ” Wooyoung snapped, but it was like a match that wouldn’t catch. He glared up at Yeosang desperately. “Do you understand how long I have been alive? How much I’ve seen and caused-“

“I don’t care,” Yeosang said coldly, staring down on him as Wooyoung stared at him. “Until you’re strong enough-  _ selfish _ enough- to kill the rest of us, you’re going to fucking live, Wooyoung.”

He flinched at the name, fists forming on his knees.

“I had to watch someone else die,” Yeosang reiterated icily, fists clenched. “He didn’t  _ want _ to die, Wooyoung. I won’t let you be so selfish as to beg for what took him. Not until you’re prepared to put someone else through the same thing. Understand?”

He couldn’t tell if Wooyoung was about to tear the ship apart or break down completely.

He felt his voice beginning to shake and left before he could find out.

Hongjoong and Seonghwa stood in the doorway- mixtures of awe, pity, and sadness shining in their eyes.

Yeosang avoided their gazes as he brushed passed them, not turning when Seonghwa’s touch brushed his arm.

He barely made it to his cabin before tears fell from his eyes- glinting and silvery like liquid moonlight as he closed the door heavily, pressing his back to it and sliding down to collapse on the floor.

His cheek throbbed, but his heart ached worse than any wound Wooyoung could ever inflict on him.

He couldn’t let another person die.

Even as he threatened Wooyoung about living on… Yeosang felt a painful tug in his gut. 

Why did this hurt so badly? Why did it seem to burn even the moon’s cool light that flooded his chest, normally-

Yeosang choked on a sob, but if you asked, he wouldn’t be able to tell you what caused it.

He didn’t want to chain Wooyoung down so he couldn’t cause his own death.

He wanted Wooyoung to stop wanting to die.

~~~~~~~~

Yeosang sat at the front of the ship, legs dangling over the water as he wrapped an arm around the bow of the ship.

He leaned back, staring up at the moon. It was nearly crescent at this point… It was waning faster… Part of him felt regretful of it.

He felt the wind shifting around him, not even glancing back when a body leaned against the ship beside him.

“You alright?” Seonghwa murmured as he leaned on his arms on the rail, glancing up at Yeosang.

He hummed, not even nodding. “I was fine before. The moment the moon came up, the bruise on my cheek healed. It didn’t even hurt that much.”

“I’m glad,” Seonghwa said quietly, earnestly. “But I was talking about… everything else.”

Yeosang took a deep breath and let it go in a quiet sigh as he closed his eyes gently. “I told Hongjoong… a long time ago. I don’t think you’re ever fine after something like that. But I’m as fine now as I have been.”

He opened his eyes as the moon hid behind a cloud, feeling a slight chill in the air.

“I’m just… It’s not fair,” he whispered. “That he would want something so horrible… I don’t even know if he realizes-“

“I doubt he does,” Seonghwa reassured him gently. “But no one ever said War was rational.”

Yeosang blinked, and each time he closed his eyes, he saw Wooyoung’s face… that horrified one. The one that almost looked frightened by what he had done.

“I think… that was Love,” he whispered, opening his eyes slowly. Seonghwa frowned up at him, questioning Yeosang’s sanity quietly. “That moment after he hit me… I think that was Love coming out… for the first time.”

Yeosang expected Seonghwa to contradict him, but there was just silence followed by a quiet sigh.

“I would say you’re wrong,” the older murmured. “But I’ve never… never seen War- Wooyoung-“ He corrected- “look like that. Not once.”

There was a longer pause as Yeosang replayed the scene over and over and over and over-

“I think it’s you,” Seonghwa said finally, something assured in his voice.

“What’s me?” Yeosang mused quietly, staring back up at the moon when it came out again.

“Bringing that out,” Seonghwa almost whispered. “I think… the rest of us- at least, Hongjoong and I- are doing him more harm than good. We bring out War in him. I think everyone else- you, especially- are able to draw out a bit of Love.”

Seonghwa sounded like he still didn’t necessarily buy into the whole Love thing… but at least he was trying.

Yeosang wrinkled his nose, shaking his head. “That’s not true. I think we’re just far enough away from land by now. We’ll start to see more, I’m sure-“

Seonghwa chuckled, taking Yeosang by surprise as he glanced up towards the moon with him. “Yeosang, you know that it isn’t just a coincidence that Wooyoung took an interest in you. That apparently hurting you appalled him to a point we’ve never seen.”

Of course, Yeosang noticed all this.

But what conclusion was he supposed to take from it? It wasn’t like Wooyoung had any reason to feel that way about Yeosang. All Yeosang did was stand up for him once. And the emotions Wooyoung was feeling now were nowhere close to the ones he had shown Yeosang for his defense.

Yeosang didn’t exactly know what Wooyoung thought about him. Because in some ways, Wooyoung seemed most inclined to throw Yeosang out just for trying to help.

He had mentioned, before… the relationship between the Moon and Love… Was it similar to the Sea and the Moon? A force, more than a relationship between the two?

It seemed more poetic than anything else. Yeosang didn’t respond for a long time, but Seonghwa didn’t seem to mind. Gods weren’t in a rush most of the time.

Yeosang eventually shook his head. “I don’t think any of us know or understand enough… to make a distinction. For now, I don’t really care who he likes most. I just-“

He cut himself off, chest pinching painfully as he stared up at the moon, like it might be able to heal that ache like it had his cheek. It didn’t.

“I want him… to be alright,” Yeosang whispered, voice pinching as his chest twisted. “I want him to want to… live again.”

“It happens,” Seonghwa said regretfully, laying a gentle hand on Yeosang’s hip. “Gods live too long… see too much… Hell, Hongjoong and I aren’t even that old, and sometimes, you just feel it more than others. Even you, Yeosang…”

Yeosang… sort of understood.

Maybe it was the fact that he wasn’t filled with some tumulus element- like the Sea, the Sky, War… Things that tried to tear you apart, to fight, to break free of every confine-

Yeosang didn’t have to fight his nature.

He merely had to ride it out- like coasting on a rough wave until the water calmed again.

When the Moon’s presence began to grow in him- pressing against him, like it was begging to be let out- Yeosang didn’t have to scream and writhe and beg for it to calm, to stay back, to lessen.

When the Moon began to well up within Yeosang, it was like feeling full and heavy- almost lethargic. It weighed him down and slowed him… making him feel almost tired.

The only time Yeosang had truly almost lost himself to his element, he had simply laid down, almost unaware of what was happening. He just knew he was suddenly so heavy… so tired. He had simply laid there as the others tried to stop him from fading.

It was like moonlight had replaced all his blood, every cell, every nerve and crevice of his body being filled to the brim with moonlight.

Light that wanted to return to the moon- like it was slowly trying to press against his skin and break free of him.

It was terrifying, because he never even realized it was happening, it was so gentle. A gentle, slow death.

“But you found reasons to live,” Yeosang said, turning away from the moon to stare at Seonghwa for the first time since he arrived. “You found us. You have each other, your names- you’re grounded. You don’t want to die anymore.”

“No, I don’t want to die,” Seonghwa said, smiling serenely in the moonlight. “Not as long as I have all of you. But even knowing everything I have… it is tiring, sometimes. You understand.”

“I do,” Yeosang said firmly, turning away once more and watching the image of the moon dance in the waves. “And that’s why I want to give that to Wooyoung. He’s…” His expression hardened. “All he has is hatred for himself. Because that’s all anyone has ever told him he should feel.”

He felt Seonghwa wince in guilt, but it passed quickly.

“I want to help him find… a reason to live again,” Yeosang said, fingers curling tightly. “I understand, hyung- more than he realizes. I know he’s tired. He’s been alive and seen so much for so long… but I want him to have a reason to live, despite being tired. Something that keeps him from  _ wanting _ to fade-“ 

In truth, Yeosang felt guilt for the harsh words he had thrown at Wooyoung. However, he didn’t think they were entirely wrong.

Seonghwa squeezed his side before removing his hand. “Maybe Wooyoung isn’t as clueless as I first thought. Because right away, he was right about one thing about you, Yeosang: you’re so pure.”

Yeosang chuckled, staring at the sliver of moon in the sky, eyes reflecting a thousand stars. “Apparently, that’s what we need in a time like this. A pure, ignorant fool.”

“You’re not ignorant,” Seonghwa said firmly. “Or a fool.”

Yeosang laughed again, closing his eyes. Sitting in the moonlight felt like laying in a gentle sun. “Would you believe the same thing if I said I planned to talk to Wooyoung tomorrow?”

Seonghwa was silent.

“I thought so.”

“Give him time,” Seonghwa said firmly. “And I am not just saying that because I think he’ll hurt you. Regardless of his true feelings or experiences- War is ancient, Yeosang. And apparently Love has been buried for a long, long time. Despite everything, it is not our nature to change, Yeosang. He will not react kindly to Love trying to appear.”

Yeosang knew this.

But he nodded anyway. “I want to talk with him. And apologize for what I said.”

“I was shocked you spoke so boldly,” Seonghwa said, dry amusement in his voice. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard you yell quite so loud.”

Yeosang might have been embarrassed, but all that occurred was a faint silver flush to his cheeks. “I was upset with him.”

“He needed you to be,” he assured him quietly. “You did nothing wrong, Yeosang.”

The scene of Wooyoung’s face played over and over, the way his hand shook and his eyes stared, as if some other force had made him strike and he was waking up to the aftermath. 

Over and over and over-

“I hope it will be better the further out to sea we are,” Yeosang murmured quietly, resting his chin on his knee lazily. 

“Speaking of,” Seonghwa said gently. “Hongjoong and I talked after you left. Wooyoung locked himself in his room again,” he informed Yeosang idly.

Yeosang vaguely remembered hearing something being yelled and then the door slamming, but he hadn’t bothered investigating. He hummed in acknowledgement.

“But Hongjoong wants to head for an island further along our current course.” Yeosang turned with a frown that Seonghwa was quick to assuage. “It’s been deserted every time we’ve been there, but there’s always a chance mortals have moved in. Hongjoong thinks that until Wooyoung stabilizes, it may be dangerous if there’s even a single other person there.”

Yeosang frowned deeper. “Why would we need an island?”

“We doubt this will be an easy transition,” Seonghwa said, expression tight but soft. “We don’t want Wooyoung destroying the ship without us having a place to fall back to. For now, we simply want to have the island within a safe distance, in case something should happen.”

It was a good plan.

But Yeosang’s stomach turned at the idea of Wooyoung destroying the ship.

“Is Hongjoong alright?” Yeosang asked suddenly, needlessly. “It was suddenly a bit… stormy before. Yunho nearly got tossed off the rigging.” It had been more funny than dangerous, and… Yeosang knew Hongjoong was okay now, but… it was always good to hear it from Seonghwa.

“He was just… a bit anxious,” Seonghwa said carefully, eyes concerned but not the kind of worried that made Yeosang’s blood freeze. It was just the usual concern that Seonghwa held for Hongjoong, always.

Technically, for all of them, always, but Hongjoong just needed it more than most.

“He was worried for you. Angry at himself for trusting Wooyoung, and then angry for not being willing to trust him- It was overwhelming for a moment. It passed quickly.”

Yeosang threw him a knowing look- playful, despite the weight in his chest that always appeared when someone almost lost control.

Seonghwa rolled his eyes, punching Yeosang’s hip roughly. “I should throw you into the sea,” he muttered, smirking. “You act as if we’re doing anything scandalous-“

“I’m not acting like anything,” Yeosang said innocently. “I think it’s… admirable that the two of you are able to so  _ solidly _ ground each other.” 

Seonghwa shoved at his leg, and Yeosang laughed as he caught himself from falling, hugging the bow of the ship as he smiled quietly down at Seonghwa.

“Maybe that’s all Wooyoung needs,” Seonghwa muttered, staring off into the sea.

His lips still smirked, but his eyes were a little too dark and serious.

“What? Someone to… ground him?” Yeosang said, making air quotes with his fingers.

They all knew about Hongjoong and Seonghwa’s arrangement. Things like kissing and sex… to gods, they meant something different than to humans.

It wasn’t like love wasn’t part of it for gods- Hongjoong and Seonghwa were very bold pieces of evidence against that. But, it was rare for things like sex to be anything more than a temporary pleasure.

Numerous times on his solo journeys, Yeosang had met other gods who simply… saw him and started trying to… become intimate. It was meaningless to most of them, and just a sense of relief for others.

Only a not-quite-rare selection of them ever traveled with another god long enough for sex to mean something more.

Yeosang, in all his time, had only ever met one other pair who lived like Seonghwa and Hongjoong- together and exclusive. There had been a Child of Time… and a Child of Autumn.

Time was perhaps the most elusive of Children to the elements. Even more than the sea and the sky- it could not be stopped.

However, Time was regular. It was constant. And it was always… on time.

Most Children of the seasons tended to almost hibernate when their season died into another. Yeosang had been more than a little mesmerized as he met with a child of Autumn on the night of a Harvest Moon. She had invited him in and held polite conversation, but kept glancing out of her window.

_ Expecting someone?  _ Yeosang had asked curiously.

She merely smiled at him, something warm and deep in her eyes.  _ Always. _

The Child of Time appeared just before midnight- a soft knock on the door as Autumn stood and hurried to open it.

The woman on the other side had the face of a young woman, but her air and eyes were ancient- as if she were constantly reliving every moment of her existence.

The kiss they shared was unlike any Yeosang had ever seen.

Autumn invited him to stay until the Harvest Moon ended, on the condition he didn’t mind Time staying as well. Over the course of three days, Yeosang saw, for the first time, what it meant to be able to love someone.

To wait for the days when they were able to pass by. To wait for the time when the last warm days of Summer had finally faded enough for Autumn to wake and wait for Time to pass by…

Yeosang had seen what it was to care for someone beyond your own physical pleasure… To see a point where their company became more pleasurable than their body… and when ¾ of a year was a small price to pay to have the rest of their days together.

He saw the same thing in Hongjoong and Seonghwa.

He didn’t know if he could see anything close to it in Wooyoung. 

Or if it was possible for Wooyoung to feel that kind of love. Was War really too strong? If War won out every time, was it even possible for Wooyoung to truly be Love? To feel it?

“It’s late,” Seonghwa said, and when Yeosang glanced down at him, he smiled quietly. He patted Yeosang’s leg. “The moon is small. You should sleep tonight. Rest some.”

Yeosang didn’t want to rest. He wanted to keep looking at the moon. Within the week, it would likely be a new moon. And nothing broke Yeosang’s heart more than when the moon was hidden for a couple of nights, completely gone from his sight.

It was in those moments that Yeosang had never felt so empty.

So alone.

He didn’t want to lose his precious remaining time. But Seonghwa patted his thigh harder, lifting his eyebrows pointedly, sternly…

Yeosang sighed, staring longingly at the moon. “The moon will be gone in a few days…”

“It will come back,” Seonghwa said comfortingly. “It always done.”

Yeosang swallowed, tearing his eyes away from the moon. “You should also go in and rest, then. I’m sure Hongjoong is lonely.” He grinned. 

“Later,” Seonghwa promised, smiling in warning as Yeosang hopped down from the bow of the ship. “For now… the winds are a bit too strong. But before morning, I promise, I’ll rest.”

Yeosang didn’t feel any particularly strong breezes, but then again, he wasn’t made to. There was a brief moment of the two of them standing before Yeosang touched Seonghwa’s shoulder as he passed.

“Thank you, hyung,” Yeosang murmured, not sure which specific thing he was thanking him for. All things.

From the moment they had met, and beyond. Everything deserved his thanks.

Seonghwa chuckled. “Just try and sleep. Tomorrow… may not be so easy a day.”

Yeosang suspected as much. And he was prepared for that.

As prepared as he could to be face down War and Love with nothing but the Moon at his back.

Well… the Moon, Sky, Sea, Earth, Sun, Mountains, and Forests as well.

Maybe… just maybe… together, they stood a chance against the worst of humanity… and the best of humanity.

Yeosang didn’t quite sleep, but he closed his eyes. He listened to the rocking of the ship.

And he listened to the waves crashing against the side of the boat and the whistling wind that seemed to hum a lullaby.

~~~~~~~~

Wooyoung did not exit his cabin the entire following day.

Nor did he let anyone enter. Hongjoong told Yeosang to keep a distance for now, asking San to bring the food.

Wooyoung refused to open the door.

“I almost thought he wasn’t in there at all- he never answered,” San said, frowning at the small bowl of soup. “But I heard him moving around. He’s just… ignoring us now.”

Before, Wooyoung would at least snap at them a little. Yeosang glanced at Hongjoong whose eyes were stormy and turbulent.

“Should we break down the door or something?” Jongho suggested, leaning on the mop he was cleaning the deck with.

“We have a key- why would we break it down?” Yunho asked, staring at Jongho who flushed, apparently having forgotten this was their own ship.

“Don’t force him,” Yeosang said suddenly, earning everyone’s attention. He stared at them calmly. “Just leave the food outside his door. One day without eating won’t kill him, if he chooses to be difficult. But give him time.”

As much as Yeosang wanted to storm over and give Wooyoung a piece of his mind… If you shoved at someone, and they were going to shove back. Wooyoung kept shoving at them… but he would fall over if they simply gave way, rather than pushing back.

The day passed without Wooyoung opening the door- the bowl of soup remaining sitting outside each time Yeosang passed.

Yeosang’s time was occupied by looking at clouds with Yunho and reading in his cabin when the sun got too intense.

He barely felt it when night fell and the small moon rose, but he exited his quarters all the same. Surprisingly, it was Jongho up in the crow’s nest, not Seonghwa as usual.

But as soon as Yeosang stepped out onto the deck, he knew why.

The sea wasn’t stormy- but it wasn’t calm. No sharp waves or dangerous squalls, but the ship rode the large lifts and falls of the water- more like a gentle rocking than a dangerous lurch.

And there wasn’t a hurricane whipping around them, but the wind blew strong and pleasant- moving them quicker than their usual drift. Neither element was raging, but it was clear they were moving.

So each of them knew what Hongjoong and Seonghwa were getting up to.

Yeosang met Jongho’s eyes as the younger grimaced in disgust, miming vomiting over the side of the boat. He chuckled, going to sit on the bow of the ship, watching the waves. Their jokes were all in good fun.

All of them were happy for the things that Hongjoong and Seonghwa had found in each other.

Even if the thought of the two having sex right at this moment was a little invasive.

The moon distracted Yeosang soon enough. It was quiet out, and before the moon had reached its peak, the waves and wind had calmed back into a smooth, glassy sea and gentle waves.

It was calm and quiet.

Which made it all the more obvious when the stormy presence appeared behind Yeosang. He turned slowly- not wanting to startle him- and found Wooyoung standing on the deck, still as stone as he stared at Yeosang.

His expression was unreadable, but it drifted more towards anger than apathy. Yeosang was immobile, waiting for Wooyoung to make his move.

He was wearing yet another shirt, his hair a mess of soot and ash, and his pants filled with a few holes that were charred. He looked horrible. But he was out.

When Wooyoung made no move to approach, Yeosang found the urge to turn towards him, but he resisted, turning back to the moon.

Merely moments after he turned away, he felt Wooyoung approaching- slowly, like each inch was being dragged out of him. Jongho was still in the crow’s nest, probably watching the whole thing like a hawk.

Yeosang wasn’t nervous.

He didn’t expect Wooyoung to get so close, but he stood at the rail of the ship- farther from Yeosang than Seonghwa had stood- but close enough that Yeosang could watch him from his peripheral.

Wooyoung stared out into the sea- expression stormy- but his body wasn’t twitching or sparking.

Yeosang focused on his moon, turning his face to it. “You didn’t mean to do it,” he murmured quietly, eyes closing. “Did you?”

He felt Wooyoung tense even from a distance, his presence becoming more agitated, but not growing in anger. “Do what?” he muttered, voice rough and shot, like he had either used it too much or not at all.

Yeosang’s chest twinged with sympathy. He remembered a time when they stopped at a port- the entire area covered in thick forests surrounding the small town down by the sea.

Jongho had left his element very soon after his birth- his body had adjusted, like San had, to only need very little of his element very rarely. That was the first time Jongho had been near a forest that big.

For the two days they stayed there, he had looked like some sort of addict, clutching his stomach- not in danger of fading, but his body was suddenly overloaded after subsisting on very little.

He had looked and sounded very similar to Wooyoung now.

“Hit me,” Yeosang said bluntly, feeling Wooyoung flinch. “You regretted it as soon as you did it.”

He heard the wood of the railing creak, likely under Wooyoung’s grip. The air around them heated, but not in anger. Wooyoung wasn’t angry, he was conflicted. Yeosang could feel it.

“No,” he answered gravely. “No, I… I didn’t… want to hit you. I just…”

He opened his eyes, risking a slow glance over at Wooyoung.

He was staring at his hand- the same one that had struck Yeosang- expression angry but stricken. He looked ill.

“I didn’t mean to,” he said lowly. “But it was like… like I lost myself for a moment. As soon as it happened, it was gone, but for that moment… It felt like I had no control over myself…” His hand clenched into a painful fist. “I’m sorry,” he muttered quietly, glaring out into the water. “Truly… you did nothing to deserve it.”

Yeosang was still watching him. “For someone so angry… so much of that anger is aimed at yourself,” he noted calmly.

Wooyoung huffed a bitter laugh, lips twitching self-deprecatingly. “I told you,” he said heavily. “It’s in my nature to hate myself.”

“You don’t want to die.”

Wooyoung froze, every molecule in his body seeming to hold still as he stared out.

Yeosang watched him quietly. “You’re tired. You’re stretched thin… You’re weary and you’re angry… but you don’t want to die. You just want to stop feeling like this.”

Wooyoung’s jaw slowly clenched, his grip tightening on the ship until a crack appeared in the wood. He stared out into the sea like he couldn’t look away, eyes stricken and cold.

“After centuries of feeling like this… do you think I haven’t tried everything to stop it?” he whispered hoarsely, mechanically. “Do you think I haven’t tried every option, if the only way I can see is just letting War take me?”

“You haven’t tried every option,” Yeosang said firmly, hugging one of his knees to his chest comfortingly. “You only just got on the ship- you didn’t give it a chance to fix anything before you tried to run.”

“Someone as weak as a  _ Moon Child _ would never understand,” Wooyoung hissed, a flash of anger that remained low and simmering in his voice. “You could never understand the agony- all the  _ noise _ -“ He hissed bitterly. “Your  _ pitiful _ element in the sky could never understand the utter hatred staining every  _ piece _ of this  _ forsaken earth _ -“ 

Wooyoung cut himself off. Yeosang didn’t flinch, merely staring at Wooyoung, waiting for him to finish.

His grip tightened until another crack appeared in the railing, his knuckles white and shaking. “I’m sorry,” he whispered stiffly, his voice trembling with effort. “I didn’t-“

“I don’t understand,” Yeosang assured him calmly. “But I knew that long before you showed up. I’ve traveled with Hongjoong and Seonghwa for centuries- I know that I will never understand the constant barrage their elements assault them with.”

Wooyoung took an audible breath that sounded painful- like he was forcing his body to continue supplying air.

“The closest I can imagine to it is when the moon is full,” Yeosang murmured. “Or when it passes closer to the earth on its path. Even that little is enough for me to nearly lose control- and that only happens once a month or once every few years. It takes very little for me to nearly fade. And I used to hate myself for being so weak, when I travel with the Sky, Sea, and Sun.”

If there was one thing Yeosang could do…. it was understanding. Maybe not emphasize… but it was in his nature to read people and understand them almost inherently. 

Yeosang could make some very educated guesses on Wooyoung and his thoughts. 

And if that’s what it took to get him to talk sense…. Yeosang would infuriate him to hell and back. 

“It’s not-“ Wooyoung tried to interject, but Yeosang kept going.

“So maybe I don’t understand that sensation,” he said firmly. “Hongjoong and Seonghwa do, but I don’t. But what I do understand is what it is to watch someone fade. And  _ that _ , I cannot sit by and watch you do.”

Wooyoung swallowed, turning his head slowly- jerkily- to stare at Yeosang with a million emotions stretched across his face.

“I watched a Winter Child fade,” Yeosang said, the pang in his heart enough to almost make him stumble. “I watched the pain and agony as he faded, even though he didn’t want to die-“

Wooyoung winced, expression twitching as he flinched backwards-

“I can’t understand what you’re going through,” Yeosang said quietly, staring at Wooyoung intently. “But I can understand what you’re  _ asking _ to go through. And I can’t let you. Not while I can stop it.” 

Wooyoung turned away swiftly, body stiff. “What a selfish reasoning,” he muttered, but it sounded like trying to convince himself.

“Isn’t your reason selfish, too?” Yeosang said in return, glancing up at the moon. “You don’t want to kill War in hopes of ridding the world of it. You want to die because you’re tired, because you want to make things easier on yourself-“

“Stupid-“ Wooyoung began to huff.

“Was that Love?” Yeosang broke in firmly, looking down on him, expressionless. He remembered what Seonghwa had said before. “After you hit me- when you cried and hugged me-“

Wooyoung’s nails tug into the wood at the mention of his actions.

“Was that Love coming out?” he asked quietly. “The part of you that cried after you had hurt me?”

Wooyoung stared resolutely out into the water, stiff anger on his face, like it was struggling to stay there. “I told you I didn’t mean to-“

“Why did you cry?” Yeosang reiterated firmly. “Why did you feel regret?”

He was silent and cold.

Sometimes Yeosang went too far, pushed too hard even if he was always gentle… but everything inside himself was screaming that this is what Wooyoung needed. 

“Was it because you realized what you had done? Did you think I didn’t deserve it? Or do you always feel those emotions?”

Wooyoung stiffened into stone.

Yeosang frowned. “After every act of war you see or cause… do you always feel that regret? Do you just hide it beneath your anger? Does Love taint every act of violence that War causes- mourning for the things that are destroyed?”

“You already know,” Wooyoung whispered hoarsely, staring off darkly. “You already know the answers to those questions- stop asking them-“

“You felt regret after destroying the ship,” Yeosang pressed- firm but gentle. “But you didn’t cry. You’ve never reacted like you did. Why did you cry and embrace me-“

“Does it matter?” Wooyoung snapped, turning to him with eyes flashing red. “Does any of it matter? Even if I regain control of myself, even if I quiet the storm inside of me- War will still exist!”

“So will Love,” Yeosang said without missing a beat, hopping down from the bow suddenly.

Wooyoung stumbled back a step, hands raised in defense. He looked torn between anger and fear.

“You mentioned that there was a connection…between Love and the Moon,” Yeosang said, staring at Wooyoung who looked seconds from bolting. “You said Children of the Moon were always easier to get along with. Is it because we see the ways Love appears, even when War is overpowering it?”

His jaw twitched, eyes flickering away-

“Wooyoung,” Yeosang said, calling his attention back.

“Don’t call me that,” Wooyoung hissed, glaring heatedly.

“You asked me to pick a name for you,” he said calmly. “You’re not War. You’re Wooyoung.” He paused. “Hongjoong found it easier to ground himself after choosing his name. It helped him distinguish himself from his element. It reminded him that he was  _ him, _ not just the Sea. It helped all of us-“ 

“I don’t care.”

“If you didn’t care, you wouldn’t be here,” Yeosang said firmly. “If you didn’t care, you would have never come onto this ship to begin with. If you truly wanted to die, you wouldn’t have tried every other option.” His expression stiffened. “If you truly didn’t care, you would have never come out of your room. You wouldn’t have apologized or cried-“

“What do you  _ want _ from me?” Wooyoung snapped, fists clenching. 

Yeosang said nothing, simply staring.

Wooyoung’s anger wavered as he shifted, uncomfortable under the stare.

Yeosang had been told that when he stared too hard, it seemed like he was staring straight through them. Mingi had been afraid of him for the longest time, not used to the way his eyes bored into him.

“I don’t want anything from you,” Yeosang said quietly. “I just want you to be at peace.”

Wooyoung scoffed, anger breaking away. “Peace will never come.”

“You seem quite a bit calmer since your fight with Seonghwa and Hongjoong,” Yeosang noted. “And you’re more openly emotional after you fought verbally with Hongjoong about your nature. And you’re apologizing more after you hit me-“

“What is your point?” Wooyoung snapped in annoyance. “By all the gods, do you always talk in  _ circles _ ?”

Yeosang stared. Wooyoung shifted his weight uncomfortably. “My point,” He murmured, “is that you haven’t been on this ship more than a week. And you’ve already changed. Maybe not enough, but you’re different from when you first stepped on.”

Wooyoung’s jaw clenched as he glared for a moment before turning swiftly. “I’m done with this conversation,” he muttered as he marched back towards below deck.

“You said it before, Wooyoung,” Yeosang said, making him freeze. “I can see Love. I know that there’s far more of it inside of you than even you can see.”

Wooyoung took another stiff step away-

“You said that War was killing Love,” Yeosang called quietly. “That Love was being suffocated by it- That isn’t the case here, Wooyoung. You’ll find more Love in this ship than anywhere else on earth. It isn’t dying, Wooyoung. You just need to know how to find it.”

He knew Wooyoung heard him, but he didn’t stop that time, continuing on until he was below deck and out of sight. Yeosang stared after him- not upset with their conversation. He knew that Wooyoung was listening, was taking his words to heart.

He knew they had already broken in. It was just Wooyoung’s nature to fight and resist and flinch away from change.

Jongho was down from the crow’s nest, glancing between the door and Yeosang. “I think he likes you,” he murmured, almost like a joke but just a bit too serious.

Yeosang’s lips twitched tiredly. “I think he’s dead set on resisting us at every turn.”

“Sounds like the best kind of challenge,” Jongho muttered, glancing at Yeosang. “You really see more Love than War?”

He was quiet for a moment before nodding. “War makes him fight. Everything else he does… that’s Love. I know it is.”

Jongho hummed quietly. “Sounds complicated. I can’t imagine having two forces inside of you like that.”

Yeosang couldn’t either.

But he knew that any force could be tamed. You just… had to figure out the right pressure points to control it.

~~~~~~~~

Hongjoong didn’t need to stand at the helm to control the ship. But sometimes he did, just to give him something to do. Usually, it was easier to keep calm while in his cabin, out of sight of his element.

On certain occasions, though, when the sea was behaving and calm, it was almost soothing to stare out blankly as the winds guided their sails.

Of course, it made it much more bearable that Seonghwa stood beside him, both of them watching the crew floating back and forth across the deck. 

For a moment, it felt peaceful.

But Hongjoong’s gaze kept drifting off of the horizon, glancing at the bow of the ship where Yeosang was usually watching the stars. Instead of him, Wooyoung sat there, arms curled around the tip of the ship as he stared off blankly, legs dangling over the water.

He had been there when they woke up this morning, and no one had yet to approach him, though everyone was watching. Wooyoung surely must feel it.

“We won’t go to the island,” Hongjoong murmured quietly to Seonghwa as he stared at Wooyoung. “I don’t think that’s what he needs. We’ll be within a good distance of it, in case something happens, but we’ll keep away for now.”

Seonghwa merely hummed in agreement, silent and stoic beside him.

Yeosang had not been out on deck for the past couple of hours, making Hongjoong frown. He had thought Yeosang would be out here watching Wooyoung like a hawk.

“One moment,” Hongjoong excused as he stepped away from the wheel, nodding at Seonghwa who simply acknowledged him with a quiet hum as Hongjoong stepped down to the deck and headed below.

In the hall of the cabins, every door was closed but Wooyoung’s. Even as he stood at the end of the hall, he saw Yeosang carrying out armfuls of broken, charred wood as he walked down to their trash storage.

When the younger returned, he saw Hongjoong standing at the end of the hall. Yeosang paused for barely a moment before entering back into Wooyoung’s cabin.

Hongjoong peeked in and saw the cabin half-cleaned. The ruined bedding had been removed, and most of the broken wood was gone, too. Half the scorches had been scrubbed up- a bucket of dirty water and a rag sitting in the corner.

Hongjoong smiled quietly as Yeosang picked up more remains of the desk. “Why?” Hongjoong asked, almost amused as Yeosang bent and stood.

Yeosang shrugged without looking. “It’s depressing, isn’t it?” he murmured. “Living among all the things you’ve destroyed… They’re just getting in the way.”

“Does Wooyoung know you’re doing it?” Hongjoong questioned, following Yeosang down to the trash pile.

“If he does, he didn’t say anything,” Yeosang said absently, returning to work. “I’m going to ask Jongho to help me rebuild the bed. I don’t think we need to replace anything else yet. He’ll probably just destroy it all.”

Hongjoong chuckled, but it wasn’t really funny. It was just Yeosang.

Everything was just so  _ Yeosang. _

“I spoke with him,” Yeosang murmured as he got to his knees, scrubbing at the soot. “While you and Seonghwa were-“ He coughed pointedly- “occupied last night.”

Hongjoong had stopped getting embarrassed, merely nodding. “About what?”

“Everything. He apologized for striking me. He said it was like… he lost control for a moment.” Yeosang scrubbed hard before pausing, staring at the black marks. “This wasn’t his last outburst. I think we’ll see a lot more moments of him losing his temper- almost losing himself- before anything changes.”

Hongjoong knew it was beyond ignorant to think Wooyoung’s transition would be a smooth one. That didn’t mean he couldn’t wish it.

Yeosang was quiet, Hongjoong continuing to watch him. He didn’t offer to help. If Yeosang wanted help, he would have asked for it to begin with. 

“You’re a good person, Yeosang,” Hongjoong murmured. “Better than most.”

Yeosang just chuckled quietly. “So I’ve been told.”

Hongjoong leaned against the doorframe. “We don’t have any more empty cabins. Hopefully, this one isn’t miserable for h-“

Hongjoong felt something lurch in his stomach just as someone above deck yelled something.

Yeosang’s head jerked up, but Hongjoong was already racing up the steps, stomach churning violently-

He saw San and Mingi standing at the bow of the ship, staring over the edge, nearly tipping over.

Hongjoong raced to the edge, already leaping over the railing before anyone said anything. 

He hit the water hard, but it swallowed him gently.

It was always a little… dangerous for Hongjoong to actually enter the water, especially as time went on. He used to only exist in the water, but he had spent so long out of it, it was overwhelming to touch so much of it directly.

However, that was only when his attention was on the water.

Hongjoong barely felt the dampness around him as he plunged deeper, unable to see in the darkness, but feeling the foreign presence in the water.

He turned left, seeing a vague shape twisting and thrashing in the dark water that was suddenly lit up in flashes of violent red-

The water shoved him towards Wooyoung’s thrashing form, his body clearly trying to fight the pain racing through it. He was sinking fast- already having lost his breath.

His hands clawed at his throat and chest as more lightning traveled along his skin, making him flinch and twist violently, creating a disturbance in a water-

Hongjoong moved after him, not even having to swim, reaching out for him. Hongjoong often forgot that others couldn’t breathe in water. But there was no mistaking the way Wooyoung sank and clawed- like a swimmer with a cramp.

Hongjoong was suddenly beside him, both his arms wrapping around Wooyoung-

The lightning from his skin traveled to Hongjoong, making him wince as his body raced with pain-

The water started shoving them to the surface, his arms tightening around Wooyoung who continued to throb with lightning and red sparks, the water rushing passed them as Hongjoong frantically begged for enough time-

Wooyoung went completely limp moments before they broke the surface.

It was easy to keep them afloat, but Wooyoung’s body had become a deadweight against Hongjoong as the others threw down a rope ladder, pale faces of fear staring down at him.

Hongjoong grabbed one rung of the ladder, the other immediately dragging him up as his other arm wrapped across Wooyoung’s front as he dangled.

His hand pressed to the center of Wooyoung’s chest, and Hongjoong closed his eyes for a moment before applying a gentle pressure to the spot.

Perhaps it would have been smarter to do it after they were on the ship.

Wooyoung jerked as water forced itself from his lungs, vomit quickly following the expulsion as the others were suddenly grabbing their clothes and arms, hauling them over the side of the ship.

Wooyoung collapsed on the wood as Hongjoong stumbled- dry, as opposed to Wooyoung’s soaked form that was shaking in a giant puddle as he threw up again, coughing and heaving in breaths that mingled with the sounds of gagging-

Yeosang knelt behind him, a hand placed soothingly between his shoulder blades as he rubbed his back slowly, trying to calm his uncontrollable shaking.

“I almost missed it, it happened too fast,” Seonghwa said quietly where one of his arms wrapped around Hongjoong protectively, despite Hongjoong having been in no danger. “There was a random spark of that red lightning. It must have taken him off guard- he fell overboard before any of us even realized what had happened.” 

Wooyoung dry heaved once, making Yeosang wince as he rested his other hand on Wooyoung’s hair, pulling it away from his face.

“You’re safe,” he comforted as Wooyoung’s body twitched, a weak spark of lightning fizzling over his skin. “You can calm down,” Yeosang murmured, rubbing his spine gently, “you’re safe- just relax. Just breathe…”

Hongjoong waited for Wooyoung to shake Yeosang off of him once he regained his breath- to jerk away and retreat back to his ruined cabin.

But the fall must have shaken Wooyoung worse than they realized. He suspended himself on his elbows above the water and sick, arms shaking as he breathed heavily, head hanging low between his shoulders.

He made no move to even shift slightly.

Hongjoong gestured to Yunho carefully. “Get some blankets,” he ordered quietly, Yunho nodding and running off quickly.

Yeosang winced at the pile of sick beneath Wooyoung, grabbing his shoulders carefully. “Let’s move away,” he coaxed. “Come on…”

Once more, Hongjoong waited for Wooyoung to resist, but when Yeosang carefully guided him up, turning him onto his back and supporting his head in his lap… Wooyoung went silently.

His eyes were shut as he continued to breathe heavily, body shaking and twitching.

More fizzled piece of lightning appeared on his skin, but it was like something was trying to drain the last bit out of him.

Yeosang stared down at Wooyoung, expression pained as he brushed his soaking hair from his face gently, carefully wiping water and sick from his face with his sleeve-

Hongjoong’s chest did something… very odd at the sight.

Because Hongjoong had seen Wooyoung- had seen War- at the height of anger and at an odd apathy- that emptiness…

He had yet to see him look so weak. As if breathing itself was becoming a dangerous chore with his lips and face pale.

Yeosang’s pale fingers also trembled where they stroked Wooyoung’s hair back, his expression pinched and drawn done in fear and distress, uncaring of how Wooyoung’s body soaked his clothes.

Yunho appeared with two blankets hanging over his arm. San immediately grabbed one, helping Yunho wrap them around Wooyoung as best they could, tucking it around his sides.

“Take him to my cabin,” Yeosang said as the three of them lifted him together. “The bed is destroyed in his.”

“Jongho, get a bucket in case he throws up again,” Yunho called over his shoulder.

Jongho rushed off, and Mingi muttered something about cleaning up the mess, disappearing below deck as well.

Hongjoong watched his little crew move, something in his chest sinking and tightening. Seonghwa was the only one who remained behind, staring after them as well. “Do you ever… feel…” Hongjoong began.

“That they’re better people than we could ever hope to be?” Seonghwa finished, as if he had been inside Hongjoong’s head. “Yes. I’ve been feeling that quite often now.”

Hongjoong swallowed. “It’s not that I still hold a grudge,” he said honestly. “But they’re all just so… so willing to do everything in their power to help him-“

“While we’re hoping that some sort of passive stance will produce results?” Seonghwa’s fingers laced through Hongjoong’s loosely. “I know.”

Hongjoong  _ did _ pity Wooyoung. 

He wanted him to be able to fix the issues that he had going on… but he would never be Yeosang- who ached with every expression flashing across his face- or San and the others- working together to help Wooyoung when something like this would only harm, but not kill him.

He would never have their utter goodness.

“But you jumped in,” Seonghwa reminded him firmly, squeezing his hand. “You knew who it was down there, but you still jumped without hesitation.”

“That was reactionary,” Hongjoong excused, sighing and rolling his eyes.

“You think their actions weren’t instinctive?” he challenged quietly, glancing at Hongjoong. “Maybe we aren’t as eager as them… but at the very least, there’s a part of us that is.”

Seonghwa liked to hover around a level of “completely unreasonable” and “just the right amount of sense.”

Hongjoong squeezed his hand back. “We’ll agree to disagree.”

“And agree to try and change?” Seonghwa murmured curiously.

Hongjoong winced. “Yeah. That, too.”

Even when you thought you had changed… there were always parts of you that clung to those old feelings. Even if Hongjoong was convinced he wanted Wooyoung better… he was still thinking in terms of Wooyoung and his crew.

Rather than Wooyoung being his crew, now.

And Wooyoung  _ was _ his crew now. Whether he liked it or not.

The others had already accepted him as one of them. 

~~~~~~~~

Wooyoung woke up feeling like his lungs had been torn out of his chest.

His stomach ached, his body felt bruised, and each breath felt like sand passing through his lungs.

He swallowed around his swollen throat, blinking tiredly within a dark cabin- the only light coming from a lantern hanging in the corner of the room, casting them in gentle golden light and stark shadows.

At first, Wooyoung thought he was alone.

And then he realized someone was stroking his hair.

He stiffened as what felt like a shiver ran down his spine, trying to lift his heavy head to see someone kneeling beside the bed he laid in-

Yeosang paused, his hand hovering above Wooyoung’s hair. In the lamp light, it made his face appear warmer, less pale.

His eyes stared at Wooyoung, startled by his sudden waking, seemingly waiting to see if Wooyoung would lash out.

Wooyoung remembered sitting on the bow of the ship, being left alone by the others. Suddenly, pain was racing through him so powerfully, he curled around his stomach, gagging on the pain of it-

He felt himself hit the water, and no sooner than he was submerged did he lose his breath as pain raced across his skin in torturous lightning. He vaguely remembered Hongjoong’s presence drawing near before he lost consciousness- both from lack of air, water in his lungs, and pain.

His body was not adjusting to its lack of power well.

While he struggled to remember, Yeosang returned to gently stroking his hair, pushing the strands away from his forehead with careful touches.

Each stroke sent what felt like small electric currents down Wooyoung’s spine, making his skin breakout in goosebumps.

“Most of the pain you’re feeling is likely from your body’s own energy discharge,” Yeosang murmured quietly, his voice soft enough to try and lull Wooyoung back to sleep.

Wooyoung froze, skin buzzing.

Despite the fact that he had been unconscious, not asleep, it was the first time in… centuries that he had been completely unaware and unburdened.

He felt… slightly groggy. Odd, knowing that there was a portion of time where he didn’t have awareness… 

He didn’t feel good. But it felt different. 

“Hongjoong says there’s no more water in your lungs,” Yeosang went on, unbothered by the reaction.. “I think… you’ll likely start experiencing those episodes more often. At least for now. We aren’t sure-“

Yeosang’s nails scratched gently at Wooyoung’s scalp. 

The action made a surge of  _ something _ go down Wooyoung’s spine, making him jerk-

Wooyoung’s hand leapt up, snatching Yeosang’s wrist tightly before it could touch him again.

Yeosang fell still, but continued to stare at Wooyoung gently, almost impassive, but colored just the barest amount of concerned as Wooyoung breathed a bit heavier.

“I was worried,” Yeosang said when Wooyoung made no move to speak. “You were unconscious all day, and it took a while before you stopped shaking. Seonghwa says your power’s going to experience mood swings- rising and falling-“

“Stop talking.”

The words slipped from Wooyoung’s lips almost like a demand, but bordered too close to begging. Yeosang fell silent calmly.

Wooyoung was feeling too many things for how tired he was. Too much buzzing under his skin, like the feeling when a fight broke out-

It felt different, though. Terrifyingly different.

Wooyoung took Yeosang’s wrist and put it on the bed firmly, drawing his hand away. “A god won’t die of drowning,” Wooyoung muttered.

“I don’t just care if you  _ die _ or not,” Yeosang responded without missing a beat, fingers curling into loose fists. “I don’t want you hurt, either.”

“Idiotic,” Wooyoung muttered, staring up at the cabin ceiling, the goosebumps on his skin dying down. It was clean and spotless. This wasn’t his cabin.

“You don’t want me hurt, either,” he murmured in return. “Why else would you have felt guilty about it?”

Wooyoung glared at him sharply. There wasn’t much else in the cabin, save for a small collection of books in the corner. He assumed this was Yeosang’s cabin, since his own was destroyed.

“I gain power from you hurting,” Wooyoung scoffed, turning away towards the wall.

“And from things like this.”

Fingers stroked through his hair again, and Wooyoung couldn’t suppress the shiver that ran down his spine with an electric buzz, his hand snatching Yeosang’s wrist and tearing it away again. He turned swiftly, glaring at Yeosang darkly who merely stared at him.

“You feel it, don’t you?” Yeosang murmured. “I noticed while you were sleeping. If fighting gives War strength…. Doesn’t it make sense that caring actions like that would feed Love-“

“Shut-“

“Up, I know,” Yeosang said gently, as if everything Wooyoung was throwing at him was amusing, rather than threatening.

Even if Wooyoung didn’t necessarily want to threaten him.

He just wanted to stop-

He just wanted to-

He-

Yeosang’s hand wrapped around his hand loosely, chilled against Wooyoung’s heated skin-

Another buzz appeared beneath his skin and Wooyoung yanked it away. None of it seemed to faze Yeosang.

His gaze turned from impassive towards pitying, though. As if something in him was hurting, but not because of Wooyoung.

“Why are you afraid of Love?” Yeosang murmured, staring at Wooyoung. “Why do you reject it all the time? Why do you act like it’s a bad thing-“

Wooyoung sat up, shoving Yeosang’s hand away when it reached for him, glaring. “I told you, it’s my nature to hate myself,” he snapped heatedly, his stomach churning.

He didn’t hate Love.

He just hated everything. Himself, these people, this place-

“Both parts of you are necessary.”

The words struck Wooyoung in the stomach worse than any physical blow could, making him flinch as he glared at Yeosang-

Yeosang who stared at him so intently, as if he had stated a fact of the universe. “You’re a part of the world,” he said firmly, holding Wooyoung’s gaze.

Wooyoung wanted to look away.

He didn’t like the way Yeosang’s eyes seemed to look deeper than skin level.

“Every part of you- including War- is part of this world,” he pressed sternly. “You’re needed, Wooyoung, not just wanted.”

“No one  _ needs _ War,” he hissed, trying to stand, but Yeosang was blocking his legs.

“The world needs  _ balance _ ,” Yeosang insisted, hand grasping Wooyoung’s wrist firmly as his expression drew down darkly. “It’s why we’re always reborn- you can’t just leave empty spots in the world. If we have Love, we  _ have _ to have War-“ 

“Shut up,” Wooyoung scoffed, rolling his eyes, forcing Yeosang to shift backwards as he swung his legs over the edge of the bed-

“You’re a part of the world,” Yeosang pressed, kneeling up with a glare.

“A part people wish didn’t  _ exist _ ,” Wooyoung snapped, going to stand-

He didn’t expect Yeosang to lift himself up on his knees, crowding against Wooyoung who flinched back-

Yeosang’s arms wrapped around his neck- Wooyoung’s hands leaping up to shove him off…

Yeosang was grabbing him though.

He hugged him. Tight and firm, like he knew Wooyoung would try to shove him off. It was awkward, given that Wooyoung was sitting on the bed, and Yeosang was kneeling on the ground- forcing Wooyoung to bend slightly.

His hands shook on Yeosang’s arms, prepared to shove him away- itching to remove him-

Yeosang hugged him tighter, face tucking against Wooyoung’s neck.

The buzzing beneath his skin returned, stronger this time, enough to make his head echo with the loudness of the energy vibrating in his blood-

“Look around you, Wooyoung,” Yeosang whispered against his ear as Wooyoung tried to build the effort to shove him off, though his hands wouldn’t obey. “Does it look like we want you gone?”

“A handful of people among the billions on earth?” Wooyoung snapped, putting pressure against Yeosang, but still not shoving away-

His hands were shaking with the buzzing.

It made him feel sick, but not… not in a painful way. He clenched his eyes shut as Yeosang pressed closer, their chests meeting. He could feel Yeosang’s slow heartbeat.

It wasn’t racing.

He wasn’t afraid. Or even nervous. He was calm.

“Stay with that handful, then,” Yeosang begged quietly, fingers curling in the back of his shirt.

A weak electric shock went down Wooyoung’s spine, making him tense.

“You don’t need to exist with a billion people,” he whispered quietly, voice warm and calm. “Stay with us. There are seven people who want you, Wooyoung. Who would mourn you if you left.”

“As if Seonghwa and Hongjoong wouldn’t rejoice-“

“They changed, Wooyoung,” Yeosang assured him, nails beginning to dig in gently at his desperation. “They care, Wooyoung. Even if they’re still angry, they’re going to do everything in their power to protect you- Hongjoong jumped after you, didn’t he?” he demanded quietly. 

“Not after everything I’ve done,” Wooyoung hissed, once more trying to apply pressure against Yeosang- 

“I would mourn you,” Yeosang said quickly, like it was falling out in a rush.

Wooyoung’s hands froze on him, gripping his arms weakly as he stared at Yeosang’s hair brushing his cheek.

“If you left- I would miss you,” he pressed. “I… I would cry for you, Wooyoung.”

“You don’t even know me,” he snapped, grip tightening, though he couldn’t bring himself to hurt him.

“Does it matter?” Yeosang demanded, pulling away from the hug to glare at Wooyoung with bloodshot eyes. “I don’t want to see you go, Wooyoung. I want you to stay here. Where it’s safe- where there are people who have already accepted you.”

“I-“

“Forget about the world!” Yeosang pressed, fingers wrapped around Wooyoung’s wrists holding onto his upper arms.

Wooyoung’s eyes widened when Yeosang’s eyes flashed a sharp, glowing silver.

“I don’t care how many people wish you didn’t exist-“ he said loudly- “just stay with those of us who want you to keep living!”

Wooyoung watched as Yeosang spoke- watched tears of anger and heartbreak well in his eyes-

His chest clenched as Yeosang stared at him, glaring but desperate… begging him.

Despite the hug ending, the buzzing beneath his skin persisted. Without thinking, Wooyoung’s hand lifting, his thumb wiping beneath Yeosang’s eye as one of the tears spilled over-

Yeosang closed his eyes quietly, letting him without flinching.

Wooyoung barely remembered who the last Moon Child had been. Centuries and centuries and centuries ago, all he remembered was that he had been the first person who had stood in Wooyoung’s presence and not immediately slaughtered his surroundings.

Moon Children just seemed immune to War.

He had stood before Wooyoung, on the outskirts of a riot going on in some village. And Wooyoung couldn’t remember what they said. He just knew that the Moon Child had stared at him… and smiled quietly at him.

He had smiled.

Wooyoung almost thought the man must have been some sort of illusion. His reaction had been the same as to Yeosang: something like a strike to his gut.

If ever there was a person who would truly mourn the death of War and Love… it was the Moon.

Wooyoung felt something around Yeosang.

He didn’t know what it was. He had heard rumors among other gods. More sociable gods knew all about the connections and relationships between the gods. And Wooyoung had heard long ago that War often got along with the Moon.

People wished on the moon. They hoped at the moon. They kissed and basked and confessed in the moonlight…

The moon was the sun to the secret lovers meeting in darkness- giving them enough light to see one another, but hiding them still. 

It was the guiding light to those who ran from war- who escaped prisons and death, racing in the darkness but guided enough by the gentle glow.

Wooyoung knew that there was some sort of relationship between him and Yeosang- inherently. For the life of him, he couldn’t name what it was.

His skin buzzed from the physical embrace more than it did from the meaning behind it.

He wanted to shove Yeosang away.

He didn’t. For whatever reason, Wooyoung felt War fall quieter around Yeosang. Making room for a part of himself… that had not been strong enough to be felt for millennia.

The part of him that had smiled, endeared by the pure presence. That had pet Yeosang’s hair and Yeosang had not shrunk away.

The part that was currently buzzing from the myriad of actions that Yeosang had taken to him. Gentle, caring… loving, though it was perhaps an intense word for it.

It was the part of him that had stared down at Yeosang- struck by his hand… and felt something shrivel inside of him.

Staring at Yeosang with Wooyoung’s mark on his face… had taken whatever hope or belief he had been holding onto… and crushed it to dust as he fell to his knees, unbelieving that there was something…

That there was a part of him so  _ evil… _ he would hurt someone like this.

Wooyoung knew that War didn’t care about innocence. It took and it killed and it hurt indiscriminately.

But he stared at Yeosang- at what he had done to Yeosang- and disgust had been quieted by regret that choked him.

Regret that something like him existed.

Something like him, that hurt and hunted even those who did nothing.

Even the most pure… were not safe from him.

And it angered him. It enraged him that Yeosang continued to look at him and see something… something worth saving.

If Love had any place inside of him, he would have never struck Yeosang.

Yeosang didn’t fear him. Yeosang embraced him and held him and cared for him… ignorantly, purely, gently-

Wooyoung could feel it.

Could feel a part of him being fed that had not been fed in… all the time of his creation. Even the past Moon Child’s smile had not been enough to do anything but stun him.

Yeosang slowly… reached for Wooyoung’s hand- cold fingertips brushing it.

The spark that traveled from the touch made him tense, snatching it away, the sensation almost painful-

Like an atrophied limb being worked for the first time. 

Yeosang withdrew his hand slowly, staring up at Wooyoung quietly, expression twisted in pity. 

“Remember that, Wooyoung,” he said, the name like its own brand of fire in his stomach. “Even if the entire world- even if the people on this ship- curse you… I know what you are. And I will mourn you.”

It seemed like such a strange thing to try and convince someone of.

He felt unbalanced- still aching from the fall. But considerably less so than he had been when he woke up.

He wanted to say something. Something scathing, something to finally get Yeosang off his back, something to make sure he stayed away-

Yeosang merely watched Wooyoung silently.

And Wooyoung couldn’t think of a single thing to say. His jaw clenched angrily. 

He wanted to hurt him.

No. He wanted to stop… stop whatever this was.

He was hesitating. And he hated it-

Yeosang stood slowly, brushing a hand through his hair to clear it from his eyes. His eyes seemed to reflect moonlight despite them being completely indoors.

“I’d like you to stay,” Yeosang murmured between them. “Like any of the others… I want you to find a home here, Wooyoung.”

He couldn’t find a single word to say- either to hurt him or not. It all clogged his throat as he felt another buzz inside his chest.

He stood, stepping around Yeosang quickly and leaving the room, a hand pressing to his chest to try and crush the stupid sensation-

The door to his cabin was open. 

And the inside was spotless.

It was cleared of everything but the rebuilt bed- a bit mismatched, but with new blankets. The walls and floor were cleaned of the black soot, just leaving a few scars in the wood.

He slammed the door behind him, pressing his back to it firmly, glaring around the room. He knew it was Yeosang. No one else would ever go to such useless, extravagant lengths like cleaning his wretched room-

Wooyoung heard the vague sound of something dripping onto the wood. He looked down, and another droplet fell, hitting the wood gently.

He brought a slow hand up to his face, fingers brushing over his cheeks-

They were wet…

He stared at the dampness on his fingers before they clenched into a fist that he clutched to his chest, teeth grinding together and eyes shut tight-

It was too much.

His knees hit the ground as he tried to breathe around the growing knot in his chest- vague sparks on weak lightning stinging his skin. It wasn’t a burst, but like the last pathetic attempt at striking a match.

War was trying to surge up. His blood heated, demanding that he move, that he fight-

The foreign buzzing seemed to numb it. Terrifyingly, Wooyoung felt the sparks of anger on his skin, but not in his heart. 

No emotions surged with the lightning-

It felt like having a limb cut off.

The buzz in his skin grew stronger as he doubled over, clutching at his chest that clenched painfully-

As quickly as it came, it faded, leaving Wooyoung lightheaded and breathless. 

That buzzing…. 

That was Love. 

Love and War were fighting.

Wooyoung stared at the scarred wood, more numb tears falling and hitting the floor as one last weak fizzle of lightning barely made it to the surface.

Love had never been strong enough to fight before.

~~~~~~~

Wooyoung stayed in his cabin the following day, though no one was very surprised.

Yeosang wasn’t really sure what made Wooyoung decide to come or go, but it was apparently completely dependent upon his mood that day.

After their conversation last night… Yeosang wasn’t surprised he chose to seclude himself. The others were almost as shocked as Wooyoung when Yeosang retold the events of their conversation.

“You just… hugged him?” San clarified, eyes wide. “And he didn’t… attack you?”

Yeosang shook his head slowly. “I think he… very much wanted to. But he never did. Actually, no,” he corrected, shaking his head. “I think there was a  _ part _ of him that very much wanted to,” he said firmly. “But I think there was another part of him that didn’t. And that part was stronger.”

Yeosang was busying himself with counting the fish they passed by, the sounds of the others playing games (mostly involving throwing or betting), a nice background noise behind him.

Hongjoong and Seonghwa were below deck.

Yeosang knew that they were trying. That even if there were still parts of them wary about Wooyoung, the majority of their hearts were set on helping him.

Yeosang rested his chin on his knees that were curled to his chest as he watched San climb on Yunho’s back and Jongho get on Mingi’s. Probably to try and fight.

He meant every word he had said.

If Wooyoung left- even after becoming fully in control… Yeosang would mourn him. Would miss him.

Because… Well, he didn’t know why. Wooyoung had made an impact on their lives, and Yeosang wasn’t sure if he would ever rest well without knowing if the other god was okay.

What if he left, after healing, and it got worse again? What if he couldn’t find them again? What if something happened, and he-

“Well, that’s a rather somber face.”

Seonghwa dropped down beside Yeosang, mimicking his position of his knees to his chest, glancing over.

“Where’s Hongjoong?” Yeosang murmured, rather than answering.

Seonghwa hummed. “Working on some maps. We could feel you all the way below deck. And then I come out to see you looking as if a funeral were passing by.” He glanced at Yeosang- gentle eyes curious.

There was a soft breeze that ruffled Yeosang’s hair, like a phantom hand passing through it.

“I’m worried,” Yeosang admitted quietly. “About… everything. But mostly about how it ends.” 

“Are you ready for tonight?” Seonghwa asked quietly. “Maybe you’re more anxious because of the new moon-“

“That’s just making me tired,” he said, shaking his head. “I’ve never felt like this before a new moon before. I just… I’m scared. Because I want to help him so badly, hyung, but I don’t know  _ how- _ “

“You’re helping him now,” Seonghwa said firmly, hand reaching out to place on Yeosang’s knee firmly. He squeezed it comfortingly. “Everything you’re doing- you said it, Yeosang. He’s a completely different person than he was when he first got here. You’re changing him. We all are. It’s just going to take time.”

Seonghwa squeezed his shoulder comfortingly, which worked only minimally. 

Yeosang was afraid they didn’t have time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading!!   
> I hope you enjoyed, but please let me know what you thought!!   
> I hope you all have an amazing day, lovelies! Stay safe! 
> 
> -SS


	3. Peace and Moonlight (The Kind That Calms)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys for all the love!!!   
> I hope you enjoy this chapter!! I hope it doesn’t come out rushed, but I really didn’t want to take an extra day!   
> Please stay safe, and let me know what you think!   
> Have an amazing day, lovelies~   
> -SS

Yeosang loved the moon. 

It was…. like enjoying the company of a very close friend, comfortable without even saying a word. 

San had once asked Yeosang: “Does… Does the moon talk to you?” He questioned, so bewildered and afraid of what sounded like a foolish question. 

Yeosang had shaken his head, amused and confused. “Why do you ask?” 

San shrugged, looked embarrassed by the inquiry. “You just… look like it does, sometimes. Like… when you stare at it, it is almost as if you’re laughing at something it said.” 

Yeosang hadn’t realized. 

There were a lot of things about himself he hadn’t realized until he met these other gods. 

But he smiled to himself, tickled by the concept of the moon talking to him. “It does not talk,” Yeosang assured him. 

“Then why do you smile all the time at it?” San questioned, bemused. 

Yeosang had turned and stared up at the little orb in the sky, lips lifting. “I like the moon. It’s… comforting, isn’t it? A sole light in the dark… And it’s very pretty, isn’t it? Don’t you usually smile at pretty things?” 

San looked like he didn’t quite get it. But he chuckled anyway, shaking his head in amusement. “I guess you have your own reasoning,” he laughed. “But… I suppose you are right. It is very pretty.” 

It was. Pretty and comforting and reliable…. The moon kept its schedule well, waxing and waning… 

And faithfully disappearing once a month, leaving Yeosang feeling like he was slowly being weighed down by stones in his stomach. 

It felt like losing a limb for a bit, a friend who was always by your side suddenly disappearing… 

And now…. now more than ever, Yeosang missed the comforting presence of his element. 

Watching Wooyoung was… unsettling. In that, Yeosang felt like his blood was churning restlessly at his own helplessness. 

The itch to help, to ease, was unable to be soothed by his nightly companion. 

These days, his only moments of solace and peace were when he stared up at the silvery orb. 

And on the night of the new moon… he felt unbalanced. As if Wooyoung was weighing on one side of his mind, but there was no comforting presence to balance on the other side. 

He wished it would come back. 

Yeosang always felt… lonely. He felt  _ lonely _ right now. As if his one comfort had been stolen away from him. 

The others tried to keep him company, but… he just missed the moon. 

And Wooyoung was weighing a bit too heavily on his mind lately. 

He couldn’t imagine… how lonely Wooyoung must feel. Without even one of his elements to be a comfort to him. 

How lonely he must always be… 

Yeosang lowered his head to avoid looking at the pitch black sky- a heavy hole in his chest and a burdening weight in his mind. 

~~~~~~~~~~~

Wooyoung laid on his newly repaired bed, curled around his stomach and trying to keep his heavy breaths from being audible.

He wasn’t even sure what time of day it was. It had been late morning when he locked himself in the room and promptly collapsed on the floor. 

By some miracle, he made it to his bed and went unbothered by the other occupants of the ship. 

_ It hurt so bad-  _

A million volts of electricity coursed through him, causing his muscles to involuntarily jerk and twitch as he tried to clench them hard enough to be immune to the waves of pain.

His eyes were shut tight enough to have spots dancing in them, sweat dampening his bedsheets, and each breath dragging in to fill his lungs as another wave of pain made him lose it-

He could feel it.

War and hatred and anger felt like fire and acid burning beneath his skin in lightning strikes that erupted when it all became too much- as it had been for the last decade or so.

That sensation was normal. Familiar. 

This… This felt like feeling returning to a numb limb.

Pins and needles and  _ agony _ at every movement, like demanding an atrophied leg hold your weight- only sheer willpower keeping it from collapsing, but subsequently putting you through worse pain-

Like phantom limbs on an amputee- aching and throbbing but there was  _ nothing there _ for you to try and soothe.

He thought Love had been as good as dead inside of himself. 

But the agony running through him was not War. 

It wasn’t a deep, rushing pain. It was a slow, meticulous pain that targeted every cell and fiber of his body. 

It didn’t break from his skin in lightning and excess power.

It made him curl up like a wounded dog, too stiff and weak to even move beyond his pathetic twitching and jerking as another wave of needles passed over him.

Love had been starved. 

Too many people giving off too much hatred. Even if there was Love in the world- for every one person who was loved, there were a hundred who were hated.

Here, miles and miles from any other living thing aside his fellow gods… War had begun to be starved. War had lashed out. War had demanded more-

Love was being coaxed here. 

A sensation that Wooyoung had not felt in so long, he may as well have never felt it.

But Love… Love thrived here. 

He could feel it-

_ It’ll be alright. _

_ I’m scared. _

_ I’m worried for him. _

_ Do you think he’s okay? _

_ Seonghwa… _

_ Everything will work out. _

_ Come here. _

_ Hey… we’ll all be there for him, okay? _

_ I’m worried for Yeosang. _

_ He’s fond of him. _

_ Don’t worry yourself. _

_ For now, will you hold me? _

Echoes in his head that were barely audible but may as well have been screams for how loudly they pounded against him. They weren’t thoughts- they were  _ intent _ . They were promises and subconscious wishes. 

He heard them like the whistling winds that created a hurricane, pounding against his skull.

Shouldn’t Love be gentle? Shouldn’t it soothe and coax? 

Why did it hurt worse than War ever did-

Wooyoung bit back a gag as he curled around his stomach tighter, a thin sheen of sweat along his skin as he panted into the sheets through his teeth.

Yeosang had been right. Love was everywhere on this ship. Between every person, between  _ all _ these people- Love was so  _ loud. _

Like the buzz that went down his spine at Yeosang’s gentle touch, it was  _ wave after wave  _ of nausea-inducing Love- buzzing that made pins and needles follow in its wake. Echoes of the words they whispered to each other, surges of it whenever a soothing touch was passed-

Once every couple of hours, an image would flash through his mind. Barely a microsecond long before disappearing. He didn’t even register what half of them were as he tried to block them out.

Yunho laying a large hand on Jongho’s shoulder as the other spaced out, smiling reassuringly.

San kicking at Yeosang’s hip gently, neither of them speaking, but an understanding passing between them.

Seonghwa’s hand resting on Hongjoong’s shoulder as they both leaned over a map together, squeezing in reassurance-

They flashed like blinding lights as his head pounded harder with each appearance.

It hurt worse than War ever did. It was a deeper agony than War ever reached. 

War burst forward and made him lash out in rage. 

_ This  _ pain made him silent, still, and weak. Something paralyzing and immobilizing about it.

Throughout the day, he barely registered the three separate times that someone knocked on his door. He heard them speaking, knew they were addressing him, but he barely had enough presence of mind to hear them, much less respond.

By the time it was likely close to night, Wooyoung felt feverish. Skin damp and burning, like War never did.

He had long lost the strength to tense against the pain, simply laying limply as his body convulsed here and there, exhausted.

He stared blankly at the sweat-soaked sheets beneath him, each breath sounding ragged, mind buzzing blankly.

He was so tired, but sleep was so far and impossible to reach. There was just a constant thrum running through his veins, agonizing and burning-

He cried out as a large surge suddenly traveled up his spine, painful enough to forgot his fatigue as he rolled onto his side, fingers clawing weakly at the sheets before he collapsed back into the bed, immobile with exhaustion. 

All the tension bled from his body, leaving him to stare blankly and numbly at the threads of his mattress. 

He was… so…  _ tired… _

He blinked slowly when the door suddenly opened.

He felt… woozy. Wooyoung stared at everything through the sweat dripping into his eyes and the haze over his glassy eyes.

Everything was slightly blurred, but he saw someone standing in the doorway.

Vaguely, he noted by the presence that it was Yeosang. The room suddenly felt ten degrees colder, and Wooyoung released an involuntary shiver that wracked his body hard enough, he nearly gagged, closing his eyes tightly as he jerked involuntarily-

A hand that was probably a normal temperature, but that felt ice cold, touched his cheek gently.

Another shocking buzz of Love surged through him, and would have likely made him cry out if he had the energy. All it did was force a pathetic, bit-off whimper out of him as he tried to flinch away.

“ _ -young _ ,” Yeosang’s voice urged, the hand tapping his cheek. “Wooyoung, open your eyes! Look at me!” he ordered- frantic, but voice gentle.

When Wooyoung’s vision cleared, he was laying on his back, staring up at Yeosang. There was no anger in the Moon Child’s eyes. 

There was only fear as he stared down at Wooyoung.

“Hey,” Yeosang coaxed like a wounded animal, gentle fingers running over Wooyoung’s cheek and forehead. “You- Why did you just keep yourself locked up?” Yeosang demanded weakly, eyes flickering over Wooyoung. “You- We can  _ help _ you, Wooyoung,” he urged. “We can help you, but you have to trust us. Don’t lock yourself away-“

Wooyoung choked on another crashing wave of pain, body trying to curl up again as a cry escaped his lips as he tried to keep breathing-

_ Stop it, _ he wanted to scream.

_ Stop… all of this. Hate me, fight me- stop with all of this- _

Yeosang’s gentle hand wrapped around his wrist.

_ Stop feeling Love-  _

“You’re burning up,” Yeosang murmured, glancing around fearfully. “Wooyoung- Damn it,” he hissed helplessly, his hand finally retreating for a moment. “Damn it all to hell-“

Wooyoung numbly wondered what Yeosang was so upset about. But he could barely think past the fire eating through his veins. 

Yeosang laid one hand over Wooyoung’s face and the other over his chest. Both barely brushed his skin- not quite touching, but close enough for Wooyoung to feel them-

Through Yeosang’s fingers, he watched Yeosang close his eyes, expression tightening like he was waiting for some pain to come.

Wooyoung was too out of it to wonder what Yeosang was doing.

Yeosang swallowed thickly. “ _ Calm yourself _ ,” he whispered under his breath, voice echoing slightly.

And then Yeosang’s skin glowed silver, his expression twitching uncomfortably as he cracked his eyes open.

His eyes shone like two orbs of moonlight, brighter than the shimmering aura that emanating from his skin-

Yeosang’s hands shook as Wooyoung’s body temperature dropped another ten degrees.

Wooyoung released a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. Or, rather, it felt like the breath was knocked out of him as he suddenly sucked in a sharp lung full-

For the first time in hours, oxygen seemed to actually reach his lungs effectively, clearing some of the foggy pain-

Yeosang’s hand rested fully on Wooyoung’s chest, supporting his gentle weight.

Yeosang’s eyes glowed a brighter silver as they widened, staring off blankly, a million miles away-

Wooyoung felt… felt…like… 

It wasn’t that the pain was subsiding. But it felt like the aftermath of hours of agony was being washed away.

The buzz remained, but the aching in his muscles, the acid burning his skin, the heat coursing- it all began to fade, an immediate relief, like poison sucked from a wound.

Like finally taking medicine, it seemed to fix the symptoms, even if the pain wasn’t cured.

Wooyoung’s chest unlocked from the stiff pain, allowing breath to flow easily as he breathed heavily, trying to make up for lost oxygen.

His head spun with the new air. 

The relief made him shake worse than the pain had- his muscles nearly shot to hell after the constant onslaught of pain.

Yeosang’s hand suddenly fell from his face, bracing on the end of the bed as he hunched over, fingers digging into Wooyoung’s chest.

The silver glow around Yeosang flickered as he glanced up through strained, silvery eyes. 

Had his face always been so pale?

“B-Better?” Yeosang panted, wincing, fingers twitching.

Wooyoung stared for a moment, forgetting to fight and resist in his state of almost blissful relief. He stared at Yeosang in feverish awe. “Y-Yes,” he managed, voice rough and ugly.

But it was genuine.

Yeosang’s expression strained as he smiled weakly, a drop of sweat on his temple. “I’m glad,” he whispered, breathing heavier.

The words shot another buzz up Wooyoung’s spine, but it was numbed.

Yeosang nodded, swaying slightly as he struggled to sit up. “That’s g-good. I was… was worried,” he rasped, limbs shaking as he tried to push himself up. “You were…w-were so-“

Yeosang’s eyes rolled back in his skull as he fell like a stone.

Wooyoung’s pulse jumped as the other’s upper half fell across his bed before sliding to the ground heavily- unconscious so quickly, Wooyoung forgot about his shaking limbs and injuries.

He cried out in alarm, practically falling out of the bed when he tried to stand, legs giving out almost immediately.

Wooyoung lay on the ground beside Yeosang, managing to sit up and pull the other’s limp body closer-

Yeosang was out cold- completely limp as Wooyoung’s weak grip tried to shake him.

Perhaps its was his brain being fried from the pain, but his eyes burned as he stared down at Yeosang, so still and pale, passing out so quickly-

“Help!” Wooyoung yelled, voice breaking from misuse. He was too weak to even stand, much less find someone.

Fear bubbled in his stomach when Yeosang didn’t even twitch as Wooyoung tapped his face frantically with trembling fingers.

Was he even breathing? 

“ _ Help me!” _ he cried towards the ajar door, tears slipping out as he turned back to Yeosang-

What had Yeosang done to him? Why did it make him faint? Why wasn’t he moving- Was he even breathing still?

He had been glowing silver- had he lost himself for a moment?

_ Please don’t fade-  _

Wooyoung placed a shaking hand beneath Yeosang’s nose, feeling the barest whisper of breath against his skin. He made a pathetic noise of relief-

He flinched as a surge of pins and needles raced up his spine, doubling over as he held Yeosang tighter-

The door slammed open fully, Hongjoong appearing- eyes frantically roaming the cabin. Seonghwa was right behind him- both of them far too awake for what seemed like the middle of the night, given the darkness of the hall. 

“ _ Yeosang _ ,” Seonghwa muttered through gritted teeth- looking torn between disapproval and concerned as he shifted passed Hongjoong to drop to his knees.

“What happened?” Hongjoong demanded as Seonghwa pulled Yeosang’s head into his lap, feeling his cheeks and pulse-

Wooyoung was shaking. From the strain of moving or from the sensations coursing through his blood, he couldn’t tell.

He stared at Hongjoong, the captain’s eyes hard and fearful… and Wooyoung… felt powerless for a moment.

For a brief, terrifying moment… it seemed as if War and Love didn’t matter.

Because Wooyoung couldn’t do a goddamn thing.

“I- He came in,” Wooyoung managed, voice rough and cracking. His nails dug into the wood. “I was… struggling,” he said, swallowing. “He got worried, he- he did something. Calmed me, used his element somehow- he glowed silver and his eyes-“

“Idiot,” Seonghwa muttered, glaring and shaking his head as he shifted Yeosang, looking prepared to pick him up. “On a new moon- you  _ imbecile _ ,” he hissed disapprovingly to the unconscious boy as he placed his arms behind his back and legs.

Seonghwa stood with Yeosang’s limp body- Hongjoong stepping aside to let them pass. Behind him, he saw the others crowded in the hallway, looking startled.

Hongjoong glanced over his shoulder. “Help Seonghwa,” was all he ordered before the others cleared out.

For a moment, Wooyoung was sure that Hongjoong was about to throw him over the side of the ship as dark eyes turned back to him. 

However… Hongjoong’s expression softened.

“Can you stand?” he asked, approaching slowly, extending a hand towards Wooyoung in offering.

Wooyoung felt too… out of it. Like he couldn’t actually focus on any one thing. Not like before, where he was woozy with pain. 

But as if… as if something Yeosang did had placed a film between him and his emotions. Cutting him off. It made being angry very hard.

It made feeling anything very hard.

Numbly, Wooyoung took Hongjoong’s offered hand, a strong grip slowly tugging him to his feet. Another hand caught him when Wooyoung nearly buckled, guiding him the short distance to his bed.

The sweat on the sheets had turned it icy, but Wooyoung laid down at Hongjoong’s gentle coaxing.

“He isn’t going to die,” Hongjoong said as he straightened.

It was routine enough that Wooyoung almost said he didn’t care, without any emotion attached to it- just empty words ready to fall from his lips.

But Hongjoong smiled…almost sadly. A little regretfully. “You look terrified. He isn’t going to die, I promise you. We wouldn’t let him.”

Wooyoung didn’t care-

What if Yeosang faded? Right before his eyes… 

Something icy flooded his veins, rushing and paralyzing-

Hongjoong’s hand touched his shoulder firmly, adding another buzz at the base of his spine. “It’s the new moon,” he explained quietly. “Yeosang’s always weakest during it. He usually just sleeps the whole night, never doing anything too strenuous…”

Hongjoong shook his head, sighing roughly but with an undeniable fondness. “That idiot,” he muttered. “Though, I guess I cannot call him that, given what he did.”

“What did he do?” Wooyoung demanded weakly, heart restless. “The Moon cannot heal people.”

“No,” Hongjoong agreed. “But it’s… soothing, isn’t it?” He lifted a curious eyebrow. “Watching the moon, it’s peaceful. Yeosang’s cannot heal physical wounds, but he can… calm people down,” he said, choosing his wording carefully. “If he tries hard enough, he can physically make your body relax and cool off.”

Wooyoung felt like a vague tranquilizer had been delivered to him, flexing his fingers numbly.

“However, doing that on a good day is hard on Yeosang,” he sighed quietly, rubbing at his face. “Trying to do so much, and on a new moon… He’s not going to die, but he’ll likely be unconscious for a while. Maybe until the moon appears again. He’s not extremely powerful to begin with…” 

Hongjoong seemed concerned, but not afraid.

Wooyoung forced his breathing to even out as he stared up at the other god.

Hongjoong’s eyes leveled a stare on Wooyoung, softer than Wooyoung had ever seen directed at him. “I’m upset that he pushed himself, but not for what he did,” he said firmly.

Wooyoung grit his teeth, though it felt like it was impossible to get mad.

Was that why Children of the Moon got along with War? They made it impossible for anger to build?

“I don’t want you dead, Wooyoung,” Hongjoong explained sternly, expression hardening. “I want you stable. I want you to be able to live well,” he said firmly. “I know you’re struggling to wield two forces. All of us can feel you struggling-“

Wooyoung opened his mouth, wanting to defend himself, but Hongjoong just shook his head.

“This isn’t something you can sweat out, Wooyoung,” he said firmly. “No god in charge of such strong elements can just ride out that burning inside of them. Seonghwa and I are experts in that knowledge. You can’t just lock yourself in here and expect not to burn yourself away.”

Wooyoung’s fist curled loosely, too tired to fully clench it.

What was he supposed to do? Curl up uselessly on the deck instead?

Hongjoong took a step away from the bed. “You have to work through it, Wooyoung. You need something grounding- some sort of channel to push the power through.” His expression darkened. “If you keep just laying there, letting it overpower you again and again… you’re going to fade. Probably without even realizing it.”

The concept of fading… had never brought fear to Wooyoung before. He had never feared that release from this stupid, painful-

“Come out on deck tomorrow morning,” Hongjoong said firmly. “I’ll send someone to help you out. At the very least, getting some air will help.”

He turned away, walking towards the door.

But now… the thought of not existing… of just laying here in pain… and then suddenly being gone…

He wondered what Yeosang would do if it were to happen.

His heart seemed to stall in his chest as Hongjoong glanced back. “All gods are different,” he said quietly. “We control ourselves in different ways. But an effective way for me is to absorb my attention somewhere else. To not think about the raging element demanding my attention.”

Wooyoung scoffed around the ice in his chest. “Sure. Just ignore it.”

“It took me centuries,” Hongjoong assured him. “And it was never as effective as it became with my crew. But… maybe it's time to start trying out options to ease the transition. Try distracting yourself. Or maybe you just need a release for it. Shoot some lightning into the sea or someth-“

“You can go now,” Wooyoung muttered, looking away from the man in the doorway, staring at the ceiling.

He expected Hongjoong to snap back with something. But there was only silence.

Another buzz traveled up his spine as Hongjoong left- closing the door, but leaving it open just a crack as his footsteps retreated down the hall.

Wooyoung turned onto his side stiffly, clenching his fists in the sheets.

Distract himself. Of course.

As if anything would ever be strong enough to draw his attention away from the constant screams of War and echoing whispers of…

Of Love. 

~~~~~~~~

True to his word, there was a gentle knock on Wooyoung’s half-ajar door, a small amount of light spilling from the hallway, telling that it was morning.

Wooyoung had not slept, and though the buzzing and shocks had returned, they were nowhere near as violent or noticeable as before.

He didn’t turn when the person creaked the door open a bit farther, San’s presence pressing against his back like a looming mountain range.

“Wooyoung?” he called gently. He, of course, knew that Wooyoung was awake. “Hongjoong wants you to come sit outside. The fresh air might help.”

In truth… Wooyoung was too tired to fight.

Not the kind of tired that would allow him to sleep- no, his mind and elements were still raging ceaselessly- but his physical body felt heavy and lethargic.

He didn’t want to move.

When San’s hand touched his arm, he didn’t jerk away.

Ups and downs to his powers, huh? It felt like mood swings.

“Come on,” San urged, gripping him gently and guiding him upwards. “It’s nice out today. Not too sunny or anything… Let’s just go sit by the rails, okay?”

Wooyoung didn’t look at San, but he also didn’t fight as he was pulled to his feet- San having to support most of his weight as Wooyoung stumbled along, eyes on the floor-

He glanced up as they passed Yeosang’s door that was shut tight. He didn’t mean to look, but even as they passed, he craned his head back to keep his eye on it.

He could feel Yeosang inside of it.

But it was a very… startlingly weak presence.

“He’s okay,” San said without Wooyoung making a sound. “He hasn’t passed out during a new moon in a long time, but he’ll be okay. Once the moon comes back, he’ll be better.”

The Moon was something… so startlingly weak- it’s light barely enough to see by. Yet so undeniably stubborn and immovable- a massive form in the sky that not even the earth itself could shove away.

Wooyoung was dropped (carefully) against the railing at the bow of the ship.

Behind him, he could see Hongjoong and Seonghwa at the helm, and he heard the voices of the others chattering around him- pausing for a moment at his appearance- and then returning to their play.

Wooyoung rested his head against the rough wood of the railing, feeling ill.

Being out here was no worse than being in his cabin- the constant buzzing up his spine that had turned him practically numb at this point, the raging whispers, the blinding flashes-

Except, now, on top of all of that, he had the real audio of their interactions floating into his physical ears.

“Catch me!”

“You’re heavy!”

“Don’t be such a baby-“

“That’s my foot!”

“Let go of the mop!”

Wooyoung had no idea what sort of game might cause such language, but he was too tired and overstimulated to move.

Even the words they yelled out should have held anger-

“Cheater!”

“Get off, idiot!”

“You guys are literally braindead- what on earth-“

Even those words… didn’t send lightning through his muscles. Even those words that should have caused anger… only created more buzzing, more waves of pins and needles-

Even the things here that should have created War… held Love.

Wooyoung didn’t understand and he felt too sick to try.

“Guys,” he heard Hongjoong call gently from the helm. “Maybe take the games to the other side of the ship. Or head downstairs.”

Wooyoung could feel everyone watching him, and even as he wanted to snap at them, he was just grateful for the silence.

“We’ll be quieter,” Yunho promised, sounding sorry.

They didn’t leave, but they stopped the physical yelling, which at least helped. Wooyoung didn’t tense when he felt Seonghwa’s presence approaching, simply remained on the rail as the other dropped down to kneel beside him.

“Here,” he said quietly, and then a cold rag was being placed on the back of Wooyoung’s neck.

The shock of it made him hiss, cursing under his breath as his entire body seized-

It wasn’t until Seonghwa’s cold hand touched his cheek that he realized the rag was probably a regular wet one, and his body was just burning up.

“There’s not much we can do but try and help your physical body handle everything,” Seonghwa told him quietly- blessedly quiet. “Unless you think some sort of outlet might help?”

Honestly, the idea of more lightning or anything else being torn from him made Wooyoung want to vomit. He shook his head.

Seonghwa was quiet for a moment, tangibly indecisive. “Hongjoong,” he called, turning for a brief moment.

Wooyoung was very tired of being analyzed and gawked at.

“I don’t think his body is handling it well,” Seonghwa said under his breath, as if Wooyoung couldn’t hear everything. “Maybe we should bring him back down… He’s visibly sick.”

Hongjoong was silent for a moment, the two exchanging glances and silent words that Wooyoung didn’t bother following. “Wooyoung, would you rather go back down to your cabin? We’d keep someone in there with you, to watch you. Or do you want to stay up here?”

“I don’t care,” Wooyoung breathed, pressing his forehead harder to the wood.

“You do care,” Seonghwa said firmly. “Which would you rather?”

Even if the noise out here was worse, it was better than the suffocating heat of his cabin. At least here, the wind provided some sort of relief.

“Here,” he rasped, not wanting to move, much less go back to the tiny little box he had been suffering in.

“Okay,” Seonghwa said, voice lilting towards a gentle tone that he had never taken with anyone outside of his crew. “We’ll grab a mat and some blankets. It will be more comfortable to lay down.”

Wooyoung didn’t care. He was currently feeling like he was rocking back and forth in a way that had nothing to do with the waves beneath them. He wasn’t anywhere near falling asleep or unconscious, but he floated in reality like a stream- not aware of anything, mind spacing out.

He didn’t even notice when they appeared with a thin mat and a blanket. He didn’t notice Yunho helping them arrange Wooyoung so he lay down, the blanket used as a pillow, given that he was much too warm.

He didn’t come back to reality until another icy rag touched his skin, making him gasp and seize, eyes flying open-

Seonghwa stared down on him from where he kneeled beside him. “There we go,” he said quietly, running the rag along Wooyoung’s soaked hair and neck. “Can you hear me now?”

The gentle strokes of the freezing rag had Wooyoung shivering, but Seonghwa continued gently.

A buzz burst up from his chest, making him wince.

“We want to keep you grounded,” Seonghwa said, wiping away the sweat on Wooyoung’s face and neck. “Just try and focus on something around you, okay?” he ordered gently. 

All Wooyoung could feel was the miserably cold rag resting against his neck, his heart pounding rapidly as every other part of him felt like it was burning.

The wind was blowing, he realized. Stronger than before and much too constant to be uninfluenced. It ruffled through Wooyoung’s hair- running along the fabric of his clothing and creating a less suffocating heat.

Seonghwa was doing that, he noted vaguely.

As much as the frigid rag was holding his attention, his mind still drifted. The sun began to set, making a less intense light as he slowly opened his eyes and stared feverishly at the sky.

Everything was so… chaotic.

Even the most peaceful of times, like this… Even the most peaceful tossing of the oceans, the gentlest of breezes, the soft afternoon light, the quiet whispers-

It was all a farce. A lower level of forces that could tear the world apart if they tried. Impossibly powerful elements, unstoppable forces that were barely contained by time and space itself, much less puny little human bodies.

Raging, tearing, deadly forces- almost mocking them by being gentle, hiding their true intent to destroy and rip and kill and-

War was everywhere. Even among those unconscious forces- War permeated every molecule of being. War was chaos, and chaos was infinite and unending- the natural state of the world.

The natural state of the world was War and that was all it would ever be.

All he would ever be, he would never be anything but War, no matter what happened, War would never let Love come through. Love was weak and War was strong-

War was going to destroy everything, he was going to destroy everything.

He was barely Love, he was always War,  _ he would always be War- _

“ _ Wooyoung- _ ”

_ He was Wooyoung- _

He gasped audibly, everything suddenly snapping back into focus as he looked around frantically-

Hongjoong and Jongho hovered above him

Wooyoung stared up at them, his chest heaving as Hongjoong lowered a hand… Wooyoung’s cheek was throbbing.

Had Hongjoong just hit him?

“Focus,” Hongjoong said, a strong gripping taking Wooyoung by the wrist. “Look around you- Look how many things are around you,” he urged sternly, squeezing until it was almost painful.

Wooyoung’s mind zeroed in on the painful grip, and on the icy shivers running down his spine as Seonghwa continued to dab at his pulse points.

The wind was still blowing gently.

The waves were quiet and rhythmic.

The rocking of the boat… was calm.

He swallowed painfully, his throat parched. Hongjoong murmured something about Jongho getting him some water, turning back to Wooyoung with eyes dark with concern. 

“W-What’s happening to me?” he whispered, voice stuck in his throat as he tried not to let the shivers running down his spine make their way into his voice.

Seonghwa and Hongjoong’s presence seemed to beat like a pulse. And with each beat, it sent a low voltage up his spine irritatingly.

He knew that withdrawing from the crowds of hatred and war would create a vortex of rage inside of him. But this… this weakness, this lethargy and agony coming along with it…

Wooyoung wanted to snatch his hand away when Hongjoong’s thumb began to stroke it comfortingly, but he couldn’t move.

“Your elements are not happy,” Hongjoong said calmly. “You’re starving one that’s been gorging itself, and you’re feeding one that hasn’t been acknowledged in centuries. Your mortal body is trying to cope… And it’s not succeeding very well.”

Jongho appeared with a cup. The next several minutes were spent trying to lift him enough to drink, and to get the water into his mouth that kept choking on it.

Drinking left Wooyoung more exhausted than the pain had, eyes unfocused but still he would not sleep. He closed his eyes, swallowing thickly.

“Don’t lose yourself,” Seonghwa warned sternly. “When you start to wonder into your element… that is when you are going to fade. Stop focusing on the storm inside of you, focus on the things around you. The things happening to your mortal body.”

Easier said than done.

But according to Yeosang… Hongjoong and Seonghwa were the experts here.

How many times had they almost faded, he wondered. How many times had they desperately snatched themselves- or the others- from some sort of ledge.

“You can rest,” Hongjoong assured him, their voices so warm and comforting-

It made Wooyoung want to break something as another round of pins and needles-

“You can rest, but stay aware of yourself,” Hongjoong said sternly, squeezing his wrist. “You aren’t just War and Love. You’re Wooyoung. Inside of you is War and Love, but this-“

A sharp nail poked his chest firmly.

“This is Wooyoung,” he said lowly, voice dark with severity. “Don’t ever forget that they are different, understand?”

No. No, Wooyoung didn’t understand.

But he still nodded, the sensation of icy water around his neck and the tight grip around his wrist giving him something to focus on.

He ignored the sounds around him, focusing on just those two points of contact- the things that reminded him that there was a physical body around him.

_ Wooyoung _ , he whispered into the darkness of his mind.  _ He was Wooyoung. _

The name still made him want to gag, but he repeated it, regardless. He was Wooyoung. Not just War.

He didn’t know if it helped or not, but as the hours slipped by, he at least remembered who he was.

The others did not leave his side.

Wooyoung was able to ignore the constant pulsing of low voltage up his spine. But he knew what it was.

Love with simultaneously a raging buzz and a soft comfort. 

It was making him nauseous. 

~~~~~~~~~

Wooyoung didn’t sleep. 

But by the time morning came, he was able to sit up (his muscles shaking in protest) and drink on his own (nearly dropping the cup). Yunho helped him eat when his fingers refused to cooperate and hold the spoon properly.

Once he was done, he felt at least more alive than yesterday. His muscles practically felt like sawdust, but he no longer felt the irresistible urge to curl up and whimper like a dog.

It was well into the morning by the time he was able to actually get his legs beneath himself, trembling under his weight like he had been working them endlessly.

Jongho appeared beside him to catch him before he could collapse over the side of the railing.

Wooyoung cursed, gritting his teeth in frustration as he was forced to lean on the other. 

“Where are you trying to go?” Jongho asked, expression somber as he shifted Wooyoung’s weight to be able to walk with him.

“Nowhere,” he muttered through his teeth. “But I am tired of laying there.”

“You can’t push yourself,” Jongho said firmly, expression darkening disapprovingly. “This is not something you can just power through-“

“If you’re going to lecture, I’ll walk myself,” Wooyoung threatened, despite knowing that he wouldn’t make it farther than a few feet.

Even though Jongho also probably knew that, he sighed quietly. “Fine. Where do you want to go? Just walk in circles?”

Wooyoung didn’t know, he was just tired of being immobile, he was so  _ sick _ of feeling like this-

“How about we go visit Yeosang?” Jongho offered when Wooyoung went too long without answering.

Wooyoung turned, frowning darkly at him. “He’s awake?” he demanded.

“No,” Jongho said, wincing. “But it’s nice to keep him company. He can feel when someone’s there, he said. So we don’t like leaving him alone for long.”

Wooyoung’s mind flashed those images.

Of Yeosang’s eyes rolling back, of his body collapsing forward and then hitting the ground like a deadweight bag of stones- 

How still Yeosang had been…

Love made Wooyoung emotional at the worst of times.

“Fine,” he muttered, chest tightening as something cold flooded his stomach.

“The stairs might be a challenge,” Jongho warned, even as he helped guide the other to them, keeping a firm grip. He practically carried Wooyoung down them, but Wooyoung didn’t really care at the moment.

Jongho opened Yeosang’s door slowly, peeking his head in before entering fully with a quiet smile. “Here,” he said, sitting Wooyoung down in the chair beside the bed that Yeosang had sat in while Wooyoung had laid in this very bed. “You can spend a while in here, if you want.”

Maybe that was best because Wooyoung’s legs were still shaking after getting down the steps. He doubted they would be able to hold him up for another few hours.

He finally looked at the bed after he regained enough breath back.

Yeosang looked exactly as he had when he first collapsed. Pale, small, and dead.

Wooyoung suddenly felt much too cold. 

“He’ll be okay,” Jongho assured him. “Within the next couple of days, he will be back to normal.”

Wooyoung ignored him, staring at Yeosang.

It had been truly startling… that thing that Yeosang had done to him. The fact that Yeosang would have known that giving Wooyoung peace would strain him too far.

The fact that he had done it anyway… Just for Wooyoung’s comfort…

Well, perhaps a bit more than comfort because Wooyoung very likely would have been too unaware to realize how close he was to permanently injuring himself.

Or maybe worse.

He vaguely heard Jongho say something. It was a long time until Wooyoung looked away from the sleeping boy and found Jongho gone. Leaving just him and Yeosang.

Yeosang’s cabin wasn’t quite so suffocating. The pain in Wooyoung’s veins seemed not so constant and powerful-

Wooyoung wondered if just being near Yeosang was able to do that… That calm…

Wooyoung had met a lot of gods over the millennia. None of them… were quite like this group here.

And none of them… were quite like Yeosang.

~~~~~~~~~

Wooyoung drifted for a long time.

Not in and out of that weird floaty feeling- War and Love remained blissfully quiet for a while. 

No, he drifted inside of himself.

Inside of Wooyoung. 

“Lost in thought,” like mortals might call it. He mind wandered over everything that had happened, everything he knew, everything he didn’t… And it found no answers, but there was also something relieving about this “spacing out.”

Like for a moment, he was neither War nor Love, nor even really Wooyoung. He could just… stop thinking for a moment.

Until a hand shifted near where his head was resting on the edge of the bed. 

Wooyoung noticed the movement, turning his head and squinting in the gentle light of a lantern.

Yeosang stared at him through heavy, half-lidded eyes, foggy but smiling quietly as his hand shifted to brush cool fingers against Wooyoung’s cheek resting against the blankets.

Wooyoung didn’t flinch away or sit up (he felt too heavy-boned for that). He simply stared as Yeosang’s peaceful smile remained, even as his hand dropped to the bed like he couldn’t hold it up any longer.

“You’re awake,” Wooyoung rasped in a quiet whisper, his skin buzzing where Yeosang had touched it. 

“Not for long,” Yeosang murmured, voice slurred with exhaustion. His hand twitched, a visible effort on his face to turn it over so his palm faced up. “But… I felt you,” he whispered slowly, staring at his open hand. “’m glad… you’re here.”

Yeosang could feel their presence when he was like this.

Yeosang closed his eyes tiredly, swallowing as his fingers twitched, like he was trying to close them around them.

I’m glad you’re here.

Why would he be glad Wooyoung was here?

“Glad,” he continued, making Wooyoung pause. “Glad… you’re okay…”

Yeosang’s hand twitched again, and Wooyoung saw his own hand sliding into Yeosang’s before he registered it was moving. He laced his fingers through Yeosang’s to make it most comfortable for them both, and he saw the corner of Yeosang’s lip twitch slightly.

No sooner than the almost-smile appeared, Yeosang’s face and hand went slack again as he fell back unconscious.

Wooyoung refused to feel fear about it. He was just resting.

He was happy… Wooyoung was there. He was glad… he was okay.

Wooyoung ended up squeezing Yeosang’s hand in his attempt to make a fist, the other remaining limp even as Wooyoung realized and released his grip- though he kept touching him.

Maybe it was Yeosang… giving him this clarity of mind. That calmness that allowed him to float without getting lost…

Wooyoung turned his face back into the blankets, another grounding point from Yeosang’s cool fingers in his own. As time passed, he felt his fingers warm to match Wooyoung’s body temperature.

A quick blast of buzzing ran up his spine, but Wooyoung merely stiffened and then relaxed as it left, holding Yeosang’s hand tighter.

Wooyoung kept his face hidden in the bed, but he felt several times when Yeosang’s fingers would twitch in his. Whether it was reflex or just Yeosang being too weak to do anything else, Wooyoung glanced up each time.

Yeosang remained pliant and fast asleep.

At one point, Wooyoung heard the door creak open, not bothering to look. He waited for Hongjoong to speak, his presence slightly turbulent behind them, but he left moments later without uttering a word.

If Wooyoung were just a bit better at this… he might have been able to fall asleep.

Instead, he laid there, awake, as time passed like the rocking of the boat- the only sign that Yeosang was still breathing was the quiet intakes of breath and the occasional twitch of his body that Wooyoung felt through their connected hands.

If you asked Wooyoung why he still held his hand… he didn’t know.

And he didn’t want to find out.

~~~~~~~~~

Hongjoong was sitting on their bed, one leg dangling off the side and expression stormy like the sea when Seonghwa entered after Yunho appeared and told him that he would take watch from the crow’s nest until morning.

Seonghwa closed the door quietly behind him, Hongjoong not lifting his dark eyes from the blankets, brows furrowed tightly.

“I take it that face has to do with the scene going on in Yeosang’s cabin?” Seonghwa guessed calmly, stepping away from the door and stripping off his shirt.

Hongjoong still didn’t move. “I’m… worried,” he murmured, rubbing at his jaw.

He grabbed his sleeping shirt, turning to Hongjoong with a quiet frown. “That Wooyoung will do something?” he asked, even though he knew that wasn’t the case.

Hongjoong shook his head quickly, only glancing up when Seonghwa took a seat on the opposite edge of the bed, finally getting him to look over. “I’m worried about… their whole relationship,” he said, not frowning so hard, but still holding that dark concern in his eyes.

“What? Love and the Moon?”

“You know we have our share of symbiotic and aggressive relationships,” Hongjoong muttered, running a hand through his hair. “It’s clear that Yeosang is something different to Wooyoung- that much can be explained by Love and the Moon. Wooyoung knew that a relationship between the two existed.”

“But?” Seonghwa ventured, scooting further onto the bed and opening his arm slowly, a silent invitation.

For a brief moment, Hongjoong didn’t take it. “But I’m worried about Yeosang’s relationship with him. The way Yeosang reacts to him, the way he talks about him… Relationships are not always necessarily two ways. I can’t pinpoint what relationship Yeosang seems to have with Wooyoung. I can’t make sense of it, and even Yeosang does not seem to understand what exactly he feels.”

Sometimes, the force inside of you was just inherent. Hongjoong could resist Yeosang’s pull sometimes, consciously. But Hongjoong’s presence near Seonghwa was an innate and unstoppable sensation that he had grown accustomed to, separated forever by the horizon.

Sometimes, you couldn’t articulate it.

But Hongjoong seemed to really wish Yeosang could.

Finally, Hongjoong sighed, crawling over until he turned, laying with his back to Seonghwa’s chest as Seonghwa’s arms settled around him gently.

At Seonghwa’s quiet murmur, he leaned his head back to rest on his chest, staring slightly at the ceiling.

“So, you have no real foundation for your concern,” Seonghwa summarized, feeling Hongjoong relax against him. “But you have too many unknowns to be comfortable.”

“Exactly,” Hongjoong murmured, sighing quietly, rubbing at his eyes. “I don’t think Wooyoung will do anything- especially not to Yeosang. But they have very quickly built some sort of rapport that I don’t understand. And I hate-“

“Not knowing,” Seonghwa finished, tightening his grip. He stared at the windswept strands of Hongjoong’s hair, brushing them down carefully. “But… isn’t it rather clear what they are to each other?” he murmured.

Hongjoong huffed, relaxing a bit more under Seonghwa’s ministrations, though his voice remained tight and dark. “Maybe you see things clearer than me, because it seems like they change how they see each other every five minutes.”

Maybe the Sea was dark and powerful… but the Sky was everywhere. You couldn’t hide from eyes that constantly saw the entire world.

“I can’t claim to know unerringly,” Seonghwa warned him, speaking calmly. “But it seems rather obvious that despite how the two may dance around- Wooyoung is endeared and calmed by Yeosang, and Yeosang is drawn to and entranced with Wooyoung.”

“That is my point,” Hongjoong huffed, tilting his head back, forcing Seonghwa to pause as stormy eyes bored into him. “Maybe Wooyoung lashes out, but it’s clear he feels something for Yeosang. Love exists with the Moon, we know that. But what of Yeosang?” he demanded frustratedly. “What possible relationship could the Moon have with Wooyoung?”

He turned back around, flopping back against Seonghwa as he took the silent hint to hold him a bit tighter, his fingers running soothingly up and down Hongjoong’s side.

“Who said it had to be the Moon’s relationship?”

Hongjoong fell still for a moment, only his pulse moving along his entire body.

He tilted his head back, frowning at Seonghwa. “What do you mean?”

Seonghwa stared at him quietly, brushing hair from his eyes so he could actually see his face. “Who says that Yeosang’s relationship with and feelings for Wooyoung have anything to do with the Moon?” 

Hongjoong still seemed confused for a moment, pulling away from Seonghwa and turning so they were face to face as he knelt on the bed beside him. Seonghwa kept his hands on Hongjoong’s hips.

Even if they weren’t kissing, physical touch was always effective in keeping their emotions from stealing them away.

“You think it’s just Yeosang?” Hongjoong clarified, looking as if Seonghwa had finally lost it.

“Why not?” Seonghwa murmured, shrugging as he ran gentle thumbs along Hongjoong’s hip bones. “All of us have emotions towards each other that are not directly linked to our elements. We can feel for people outside of how our powers interact.”

“I know,” Hongjoong said quickly. “But- Are you implying that Yeosang might love Wooyoung?” he demanded quietly, eyes flickering over Seonghwa’s face like there might be an answer hiding in plain sight. 

“Perhaps, especially so early, love is a very strong word for how much progress they’ve made,” Seonghwa assured him. “But don’t you agree that it seems like Yeosang cares very deeply for Wooyoung, even in ways that the others don’t necessarily? Perhaps he does not even realize it, but isn’t it possible that it could grow to that, if things go properly?”

“But he’s War!” Hongjoong fought, shaking his head sharply. “Why would that sort of emotion form when he’s barely been here a couple of weeks! How could Yeosang feel so quickly for someone like that?”

Seonghwa loved Hongjoong with every century his heart had been beating.

But sometimes, he was so stubbornly stuck, it took a smack and a beating to get something through his head, even when he was so sure it was already there.

The Sea may appear to be different, but it was still all the same water circulating. 

“Yeosang has never seen Wooyoung as War, remember?” Seonghwa reminded him, tugging Hongjoong closer. “And that may be the only thing the Moon had to do with Love- is recognizing it. But maybe that was enough for Yeosang.”

Hongjoong’s dark expression flickered with a lighter confusion and frustration, making Seonghwa squeeze his hip.

“Everyone saw him as War, first, even if they eventually saw him as more,” Seonghwa said quietly, staring Hongjoong in the eyes. “Yeosang is the only person who seems to not see him as War- and even has trouble seeing that in him. Maybe that single first impression was enough.”

Hongjoong opened his mouth, closed it, lowered his head… and let go of a long, tired sigh as he rubbed at his cheeks. “I did it again, didn’t I?” he muttered dejectedly. “I keep saying that I see Wooyoung as one of us-“

“And you do,” Seonghwa assured him firmly, pinching his side until Hongjoong looked at him with heavy eyes. “Maybe your personal opinions are still changing, but you’ve already accepted him, Hongjoong. You saved him before and you promised to protect him like one of the crew.”

He knew that Hongjoong knew that.

Centuries of hatred was hard to change in a week.

“You seem to have gotten past that,” Hongjoong muttered predictably, lowering his eyes.

Seonghwa’s hand caught his chin, lifting his head until they locked eyes again.

The Horizon between them seemed to shrink. “I still hate him so much for what he’s done,” Seonghwa assured him, watching surprise flicker in Hongjoong’s eyes. “Perhaps I can hide it better, but even as I consciously think that he and Yeosang may be doing well, I feel that instinctual pull to hate him. Even if I fight it, it’s still there, Hongjoong. And maybe it always will be.”

Hongjoong stared, like he was waiting for another part of the statement.

There was none.

Maybe they would never live long enough to be able to erase the hatred of what Wooyoung had almost taken from them. But maybe within months, they would lose that anger.

It didn’t matter what their rote mentality was. What mattered was the decisions they made and the choices they stuck to.

Hongjoong’s expression fell slightly into something more understanding. “Right,” he murmured. “ _ Right, _ ” he said again, straightening. “I… I’m trying.”

“I know you are,” Seonghwa chuckled, not fighting it when Hongjoong leaned forward slightly. “Wooyoung is trying, too.”

“I know,” Hongjoong said firmly, one hand reaching up and wrapping around Seonghwa’s wrist tightly. “He’s trying harder… than we ever did. And somehow… Yeosang seems to be the one helping that along most. I thought  _ we _ were the experts.”

He very nearly pouted, making the corners of Seonghwa’s mouth twitch upwards as their lips barely brushed.

“Maybe we can teach him to cope,” Seonghwa assured him. “But…” They parted slightly as he frowned. “Only Wooyoung can truly give himself control… but I think Yeosang may prove even more useful than us.” 

Because Yeosang… understood Wooyoung, somehow. 

Maybe not empathetically…. But he stared at Wooyoung with a different knowledge in his eyes. A knowledge that seemed to frighten Wooyoung, which led to his anger.

Yeosang seemed to stare straight into Wooyoung’s soul, and they all knew how unsettling it was. To them, though, it just meant thinking Yeosang knew a little too much than he should.

To Wooyoung, it was probably like being stripped bare and stared at, not knowing what to do or what he wanted from him. One day, though… Wooyoung would realize exactly what Yeosang wanted.

“I just want them safe,” Hongjoong whispered, eyes shutting tight as Seonghwa slowly closed the distance between them.

“Even if they won’t be… we’ll protect them,” Seonghwa promised, hands rubbing Hongjoong’s sides comfortingly. “That’s what we promised, isn’t it? To protect them no matter what-“

“Even against each other,” Hongjoong murmured, swallowing.

Their lips met, slow and barely moving- almost like another way of holding hands, just a reassurance of a presence.

Hongjoong’s lips were warm but chapped as he rested his hands against Seonghwa’s chest, nails digging in slightly.

“One day at a time,” Hongjoong whispered, pulling away to rest their foreheads together. “That’s how we made it before. Just… one day at a time.”

Wooyoung’s brand of fighting his element was especially concerning. At first, it came like a flash of a blade- slicing dangerously and then disappearing into calm.

Now… it was like a physical sickness waging war against his body. One that he had no way of really fighting- all they could do was try and give him his best chance. It was all a question of whether his immune system- if his physical body- could stand up against it without giving in.

He’d come dangerously close to giving in, even if he hadn’t really been in a real risk zone before they managed to pull him back.

Their own elements had been explosive. Raging and battling endlessly, like stopping would mean certain death.

This almost-sickness was more reminiscent to Yeosang or Jongho’s elements’ consequences. Something more subtle but infinitely more dangerous because you never even realized how close to the edge you were getting.

One day at a time.

There was so much they didn’t know, and they were discovering things so slowly… all they could do was take it day by day, step by step, and hope that they could react in a split second with enough time to stop anything lethal.

Hongjoong threw a leg over one of Seonghwa’s, not bothering to fully straddle him as the kiss deepened slowly- nothing rushed or frantic about it, like when one of them began to slip.

This wasn’t a desperate attempt to ground each other, this was just a desire to be close. To show their l-

He wondered, idly, if they made things worse for Wooyoung…

The thoughts were lost as he shifted closer to Seonghwa as the other laid back, until they were both flat against the mattress- Hongjoong laying on top of his chest.

They wouldn’t sleep, but they usually fell into some form of rest like this. Seonghwa playing idly with the hairs at the back of his head, and Hongjoong listening to the sound of his heartbeat.

To this day, he couldn’t decide if his heart sounded like the rolling of ocean waves or the murmuring wind rustling through trees.

Whatever it was, it was the closest thing to a lullaby Hongjoong had ever known.

Even as he drifted aimlessly, he felt a gentle spike of guilt.

He knew that Wooyoung would not find rest even close to the likes of this.

~~~~~~~~

Yeosang became conscious a few times throughout the next day.

Only for a few moments each time, and most of the time without moving or speaking, but he became aware enough that the vague sensation of someone’s presence beside him morphed into the solid reality of a body sitting next to him.

Of a hand curled in his.

He felt the others come and go- San and Yunho and all the others, staying for a few minutes before continuing on.

Wooyoung’s presence continued to sit firmly. Yeosang stopped moving right after he became conscious because each time he did shift, it made Wooyoung release their joined hands.

Yeosang didn’t know why. He assumed Wooyoung couldn’t tell that Yeosang could feel it, even while unconscious.

Calming Wooyoung like that had taken a real toll on him, and even when he managed to open his eyes, he was physically fighting the pull to fall back to oblivion.

Half the time, it was hard to be aware of himself. He felt fuzzy sensations of San and Jongho feeding him some food and helping him drink. Of his pillow being adjusted by Yunho when he passed. Of a gentle hand on his shoulder as Hongjoong spoke quietly to him for a moment, his voice coming across as nothing but static.

But Yeosang understood the sentiment of it all. Even while sitting in darkness.

But still, Wooyoung didn’t leave.

And Yeosang… was oddly grateful for that. Moreso in the fact that Wooyoung sat like he was keeping some sort of guard, rather than being too stubborn to leave. (Yeosang could see him, expression hard with concentration while he thought Yeosang was still unaware.)

It lit a little warmth in his stomach, at the thought that Wooyoung cared…

No, Yeosang already  _ knew _ that Wooyoung cared. He knew that he cared so much more than he let on. But it felt good… knowing that Wooyoung was allowing himself to make such an open statement by remaining at Yeosang’s side.

“You aren’t going… to leave?” Yeosang questioned, throat dry as Wooyoung stared at him with no discernable emotion. “You can go… to the… deck,” he assured him tiredly. “Fresh… air.”

Wooyoung had merely stared before looking away, waiting for Yeosang to fall unconscious again.

He did, and when he came to, it was to Wooyoung holding an empty bowl.

Yeosang’s lips twitched as his chest grew warm. He watched Wooyoung wince in a way that told him he had felt the consequences of that warmth, glancing at Yeosang accusingly, knowing that he had caused whatever painful sensation was there.

“… Thank you,” Yeosang managed to murmur, his vision still slightly out of focus from exhaustion. “For… staying.”

Wooyoung scoffed, like it was stupid. He was sitting up for the first time that Yeosang had seen. He seemed to be shifting back and forth between incredibly weak and sort-of ill.

“Really,” Yeosang assured him, wincing as he forced his hand to weakly take Wooyoung’s idle one. “Thank you…”

Wooyoung stiffened, but didn’t tear his hand away. His hair fell into his face as he stared at the touch. “You crew would do the same thing,” he muttered darkly.

“Yes,” Yeosang murmured, feeling peaceful. “But… you have less… reason to stay… than they do. It means… something… different…”

His breathing was a bit heavier, and his eyes fell closed, blocking him from seeing Wooyoung’s reaction.

Things got dark again as Wooyoung huffed bitterly. “You say that like I know why the hell I’m even here,” he muttered so quietly, Yeosang might have missed it if he hadn’t been listening so intently, wanting to hang on to every word.

He blacked out before he could say anything else.

But he wanted to speak. Wanted to make sure Wooyoung knew…he didn’t need to know why he was there. The point… The only thing that mattered… was that he was there.

He was there when it mattered.

~~~~~~~~

Wooyoung stood slowly, bracing a firm hand on the bed to keep his shaking legs from giving out until he was sure they would hold him.

He winced at the pins and needles in his legs- real, physical ones from being seated for so long, not the kind that came with each gentle touch and word from the others. He stretched carefully, aware that any forceful movement would likely send him to the ground.

He still felt weak and shaky, but even if sitting here had provided him a bit of mental rest, he was beginning to feel the ache of being stationary in his body.

He braced a proactive hand on the wall to guide him as he threw one more glance at Yeosang’s quietly sleeping body. 

Stepping out into the hall, he glanced around.

It was dark out- only the lanterns on the wall providing light to see by. He thought about going to the deck, but didn’t feel like seeing anyone right now.

He was still, in some ways, in a state of numb.

He slowly, carefully walked to his cabin that had been untouched for the past two days, making his way to the bed and sitting down on it. Even that small walk made him tired, but he used the sitting position to slowly stretch out his muscles that had been bunched for too long.

Some of them hurt worse than others, but after he finished, he felt more centered and alive, even if his muscles were still weak.

Wooyoung still felt a lingering numbness in his chest. Something that refused to turn to either anger or anything else.

Or rather… like anger and the opposite emotion were being matched so equally…neither was able to prevail and make itself known, both of them canceling each other out.

He stared at his hand that was stiff from holding Yeosang’s for so long.

_ It doesn’t matter… why you’re here. _

That’s what Yeosang had whispered before he fell unconscious again.

_ You’re here… when it matters. _

That had made Wooyoung more antsy than sitting ever had. It made his blood warm and his chest tighten… all in ways that were definitely unrelated to his elements.

Even more than numb… Wooyoung felt lost.

He had never had trouble knowing who he was, before. Or so he had thought.

He was War. Maybe he was Love, too, but among the world and inside himself, it was War that prevailed time and time again. With centuries passing, Wooyoung came to accept that. He was War. He simply had Love within him.

He never needed to question that.

And then an unassuming frown was thrown his way.  _ What is Love doing here? _

Wooyoung had been more amused than anything, finding it endearing that the little Moon Child could see that little speck of Love existing. Like praising a child for matching their shoes the right way. Impressive, but in the grand scheme of things: useless.

But it just… didn’t stop. 

_ Yeosang _ never stopped. Even among everything, he never… never seemed to even notice War inside of Wooyoung. Every look and action and word was spoken to him without fear, without hatred, without…

Without that looked you held when you saw War standing before you.

And with that unceasing kindness,  _ then _ came the confusion. The war inside of himself as Love was acknowledged more and more… And as they got further from the humans and their unending war… Wooyoung was now sequestered with these gods who seemed to lack the desire and intention of hatred.

Like they had said… War was suddenly being starved and Love was tasting for the first time in  _ so long… _

Wooyoung stood, shaking his head as he walked shakily to the door.

Confusion was dangerous to him. But there was nothing he wasn’t confused about. Everything- from himself to the others, his future, his intent, his feelings… None of it made sense.

How could War possibly learn to live alongside Love? Wooyoung had believed Love was all but dead, only weeks ago.

He shuffled down the hallway tiredly, rubbing at his face.

Yeosang… had given Wooyoung that peace, even knowing he didn’t have the energy for it on a new moon.

Sacrifice… was the connecting force between Love and War.

The ultimate form of Love… that was only found in War. 

Wooyoung stepped in front of Yeosang’s door, pausing for a moment before glancing in-

Wooyoung’s stomach dropped as he saw Yeosang’s bed empty, the sheets thrown aside. However, even as the panic surged forward, he felt it die as he turned back to the hall.

He would have seen Yeosang if he had gone further into the hall, so the only place he could have gone was up to the deck.

He was still struggling to stay conscious a few minutes ago- was he really up and walking? Had someone come to get him?

Wooyoung moved as quickly as he could, both hands gripping the wall as he struggled up the steep stairs, his thighs shaking with the effort. There was a thin sheen of sweat on him as he made it up into the fresh night air, eyes flickering around frantically.

The bow of the boat was empty, he could see Mingi sitting up in the crow’s nest, the left side of the boat was clear-

On the little mat that Wooyoung hadn’t touched for two days, Yeosang knelt, leaning on the side of the boat, arms dangling over the side.

His cheek rested on the rough wood, but even from here, Wooyoung could see his eyes staring upwards-

The moon was out. It was barely a crescent, just a sliver of visible silver, but it seemed to be enough as Yeosang rested his cheek on the rail, breathing a bit heavily.

He turned slowly, staring at Wooyoung from over his shoulder. His expression was slightly pale and strained from moving.

But he smiled quietly.

Wooyoung froze, his blood falling still in his veins as Yeosang stared at him.

With a gentle… peaceful smile, like the crescent hanging in the sky. The smile almost seemed to make his skin glow with silvery light

“The moon is beautiful,” Yeosang murmured, sounding tired but so… calm. “Isn’t it?”

His smile was not bright. Nor vibrant. Nor large.

It was barely a twitch of his lips, but it shone through his eyes more anything on his face could ever express.

Tiredly, Yeosang patted the half of the mat that he wasn’t sitting on, turning back to the moon and basking in the light, sighing in quiet relief.

Wooyoung didn’t want to approach. He didn’t want to get closer. 

Yeosang should never- 

No.  _ No one _ should have ever been able to look at Wooyoung like that.

Yeosang glanced back when he hadn’t moved, his smile fading slightly, making Wooyoung’s stomach lurch sickeningly as he took an aborted step forward.

His silvery eyes flickered over Wooyoung, seeming to take in and understand everything about him in a moment. 

Wooyoung hated it to hell and back, but…

Part of him wondered just how much Yeosang really knew.

“I meant it,” Yeosang murmured quietly, staring at Wooyoung with eyes that shone quietly. “Before… It means a lot… that you stayed with me.”

The buzz that shot up Wooyoung’s spine caught him off guard, nearly taking his legs out from under him as he stumbled, catching himself before he hit the ground.

When he looked up, Yeosang was half turned to him, arms outstretched like he might have caught Wooyoung from six feet away.

“Come sit,” Yeosang said, frowning in concern as he patted the mat once more. “You’re not much better off than I am…”

War wanted to rage at the implication that he was somehow as weak as the Moon.

Love was urging him to just take the gentle invitation, locked on to the quiet expression that Yeosang stared at him with…

Wooyoung made his decision. 

Not War. Not Love.

He walked forward slowly, Yeosang shifting slightly to make more than enough room for him as Wooyoung tried to lower himself down, but ultimately wound up collapsing on his ass.

He blew out a hard breath, resting his back against the rail, facing the opposite way as Yeosang who continued staring at the moon. He crossed his arms tightly as he stretched his legs out.

“Really,” Yeosang murmured so quietly, it almost seemed like even Wooyoung wasn’t meant to hear. “….Thank you.”

Wooyoung could see Yeosang’s face out of the corner of his eye, and when he shifted slightly, he could make out the slightly serene tilt to his lips, the smile shining from his eyes more than his lips.

Wooyoung turned away quickly, glaring at the ground.

“Don’t make yourself worry,” Yeosang continued quietly, almost talking to himself. “One day at a time… Just focus on making it one day at a time. That’s how you live happily, Wooyoung.”

He couldn’t help but snort. It didn’t make Yeosang’s expression waver in the slightest. In fact, he almost seemed  _ more _ amused than before. 

“Don’t look at eternity,” Yeosang whispered, resting his chin on the rail. “It’ll come on its own. If you can be happy for just one day at a time… or sad for just one day at a time… I think you’ll be okay. One day doesn’t define eternity… But it can create the first step to it.”

Wooyoung hadn’t realized he wasn’t glaring anymore until Yeosang glanced at him, blinking in surprise for a moment.

And then his smile grew- quiet, but making his eyes scrunch slightly as he stared, practically glowing, at Wooyoung.

“Why…”

Wooyoung’s tongue felt like lead as he stared back, stomach twisting.

“Why… do you look at me like that?” he demanded, voice coming out weak and hoarse.

Yeosang’s smile didn’t fade, but it held something more somber in it at the question. “I look at you like I look at all my friends.”

“We aren’t friends,” He said rotely, instinctually.

“Aren’t we?” Yeosang responded back quietly. “Do you usually sit by your enemies bedside for two days and hold their hands?”

Wooyoung felt his body heat, but he didn’t think it was anger making his skin burn.

“Just because we aren’t enemies doesn’t make us friends,” he said stiffly.

“In my book it does,” Yeosang said simply, glancing back up at the moon weakly shining on. “Fine, if you won’t be my friend, you can be my companion.”

“ _ Companion? _ ” Wooyoung said in disbelief, hardly able to keep up with what Yeosang was trying to say.

“You’re traveling with us,” he said obviously. “That, at the very least, makes you a companion. A fellow journeyer.”

“You are the simplest fool I have ever met.”

“A fool you held the hand of for two days,” Yeosang said mercilessly, making Wooyoung glare at him, though it felt hollow and empty of anger. “I felt it,” He said, voice becoming more serious as his eyes softened. “While I was unconscious. It was… a true comfort.”

“I was not trying to give comfort,” Wooyoung huffed, crossing his arms again and facing away once more. “It was entirely selfish reasoning.”

“Do I calm you, Wooyoung?”

He looked back, tired of this game of looking back and forth, of hiding and coming out-

But Wooyoung paused at Yeosang’s expression.

Yeosang was, at the best of times, childish and naïve. Young and ignorant.

But when he looked at Wooyoung this time, his eyes seemed as timeless as the moon itself. His expression was eerily calm- blank, even as it was gentle.

“I’ve never calmed someone… the way I calmed you, before,” Yeosang told him, staring at Wooyoung with too much knowledge, too much understanding-

Had Wooyoung been fully functional… he would have run.

He wouldn’t call it fear. Unnerving is what it was. 

Baring him like he was naked and open for Yeosang to simply read like a book.

Wooyoung didn’t know why he was so afraid of Yeosang reading him. No- Not afraid. Unsettled. It was frightening, not because he was scared-

But what… what was Yeosang seeing? Things that even Wooyoung didn’t understand? Part of Wooyoung that he thought was so complex and twisted, unrecognizable… 

Was Yeosang seeing those as clear as day?

“I’ve done something similar to Seonghwa and Hongjoong, a few times,” Yeosang murmured quietly, eyes still leveled on Wooyoung. “Jongho, only once. Never on the others. I’ve never had to forcibly take their energy and pin it down until it calmed. Usually, a simple blanket action is enough to finish it before it starts.”

Yeosang shifted slightly, turning to face Wooyoung more fully, and it was completely involuntary when Wooyoung shifted away, staring with wide eyes at the Moon Child-

He felt exposed. Bare and weak and able to be poked and prodded, like an interesting exposed nerve-

But he did not… feel in danger. Even as his skin practically crawled… he did not feel fear. 

At least, not at Yeosang himself.

“You’re so twisted, Wooyoung,” he said, timeless expression twisting slightly in pain. “It… It breaks my heart… to see someone who is so tangled inside. So knotted up, I don’t think even you can see where all the threads lead.”

“Can  _ you _ ?” Wooyoung asked, voice coming out breathless, like he was back underwater again. “Can you see where they lead?”

He was quiet for a moment, tracing silver eyes slowly over Wooyoung’s face. “Not really,” he confessed. “I didn’t untangle them when I calmed you, I only got them to loosen. But, Wooyoung-“

He flinched, hearing the name spoke like… like it was something special and marking and defining-

A cool hand touched his cheek, making him flinch, but not pull away.

Yeosang stared at him, slightly unfocused, but his eyes pained-

As if looking at Wooyoung… was physically hurting him.

“You can’t untangle a knot by yanking on all the threads,” he whispered, voice seeming to echo slightly, though it might have just been Wooyoung’s ears. “You start with one thread and gently guide it out- otherwise, you tighten the other threads. One day at a time, Wooyoung-“

“It’s not that simple,” he hissed, voice quiet and muffled to his ears. “If it was-“

“Stop fighting it,” Yeosang begged, blinking slowly. “Stop denying, just because you’re scared-“

“I’m not-“

“You  _ are _ ,” he hissed painfully. “You are scared, Wooyoung. You’re scared of Love, and I don’t know why but…”

A thumb stroked over his cheek, a surge of buzzing traveling up his spine, making him winced.

“Do you acknowledge it?” Yeosang whispered. “That feeling… Do you acknowledge that it’s Love? That the change you’re feeling- all the things you’re experiencing from us… Do you admit that it’s Love?”

Wooyoung felt like breath was slowly being leached from his body.

Another buzz. 

“I know,” he croaked, throat dry. “I know what it is-“

“Do you know what happens when you place a line of rocks in a river?” Yeosang whispered. “The water moved faster, even if it was quite slow. Placing resistance in its path… it will find a way through, but it becomes more dangerous. Faster, rushing rapids that will sweep you away…”

The ship creaked around them. Wooyoung felt like his heart was slowly being shoved into his throat, choking him-

“If you take away the rocks… if you stop resisting… the water flows slower. More gently,” he coaxed, thumb stroking Wooyoung’s cheek.

It wasn’t until that moment that Wooyoung realized his face was damp.

“Stop fighting Love,” Yeosang whispered gently, his hand now warm against Wooyoung’s skin.

He stared at Wooyoung, like he was nothing but words in a book, free for him to read and dissect.

“Stop fighting War,” he murmured, almost pleading. “Let them run their course, Wooyoung. You don’t have to feel only one or the other. You’re  _ both, _ Wooyoung- let them both move. Stop trying to contain them, to suffocate them like it’ll finally let you breathe.”

Wooyoung blinked and felt the tear slip from his eye- hot and damp as Yeosang wiped it away gently.

His other hand came up, until he was framing Wooyoung’s face in a touch so gentle…

More tears fell as he tried to figure out how to breathe-

Yeosang’s eyes flickered a gentle silver as he stared at Wooyoung, expression pained and begging. “Stop hurting yourself,” he whispered quietly. “Just let yourself breathe, Wooyoung. Stop trying to fight them- stop letting them hurt you and control y-“

Yeosang choked off, body seizing suddenly, his hands drawing away from Wooyoung-

As quickly as he seized up, he fell limp, expression falling from that silver timeless to the soft expression of unconsciousness- 

Wooyoung caught him where he slumped forward, a small cry in his throat at another sudden fall, trying to hold Yeosang’s weight up as his vision blurred and hot tears dripped onto Yeosang’s shoulder-

“He just overexerted himself again,” Seonghwa’s voice said, appearing beside Wooyoung and taking Yeosang’s shoulders gently.

His expression was somber and distant, but his sudden arrival and countenance told Wooyoung he had heard everything.

Seonghwa pulled Yeosang away, leaning him back and balling the blanket up to pillow his head as he laid him half on the mat. He stared at Yeosang, ignoring Wooyoung for a moment as he brushed Yeosang’s hair back, exposing his face to the gentle moonlight.

Yeosang looked completely peaceful, lips slightly parted.

“He’ll be fine tomorrow,” Seonghwa murmured absently. “He’s just tired.”

Wooyoung barely heard Seonghwa, staring at Yeosang as his throat closed up, something tight and hot building in his throat.

_ Stop hurting yourself.  _

Wasn’t that why Wooyoung had wanted to fade? To stop the pain? Was it even possible to do what Yeosang said?

Start with one thread and slowly untangle it? How could he possibly let both War and Love exist? One always had to overpower the other, they couldn’t exist together-

“He’s right, you know,” Seonghwa murmured heavily.

He looked at Wooyoung for the first time, his countenance heavy, but his eyes…

His eyes were pitying. And almost… hopeful.

“But then… Yeosang usually is, about these sorts of things,” he sighed quietly, glancing back at Yeosang’s sleeping form.

Wooyoung stared at him, eyes flickering down to Yeosang, feeling as if something- War, Love,  _ something _ \- was about to break out of his chest as it welled and tightened-

Wooyoung doubled over, taking a deep breath to brace himself.

But rather than pins and needles or lightning crack off of his skin… a pitiful sob broke though his lips.

And as quickly as it raced up his throat, another caught up to it, and another and another-

Wooyoung curled around his knees tightly as he cried, sobbing with a weight that he had never before known- not even when he had first struck Yeosang-

He curled, alone and helpless to his own body, as his cries echoed through the ship.

He barely felt the warm hand placed between his shoulder blades.

But the weak buzz at the base of his spine was nothing compared to the agony in his heart.

~~~~~~~~

Wooyoung remained in his cabin- not locked, but quietly refusing any coaxing to come to the deck.

Yeosang sat in his own cabin, tired but done with all the fainting spells for now, it seemed.

“I went too far,” he said quietly, head hung low. “I know I did- I could feel that I got too worked up-“

“You said what he needed to hear,” Seonghwa comforted, sitting the little tray of food down on his bed. “And you said how he needed to hear it.”

Yeosang rubbed at his eyes that ached slightly. “I barely even remember what he did,” he murmured heavily. “All I remember is…just seeing his face. And he was just so…so fucking  _ lost-“ _

“You broke through to him,” Seonghwa assured him, a warm hand on his shoulder. “You didn’t see him after you fell unconscious- you  _ broke through to him, _ Yeosang. You made him realize  _ something. _ ”

Even as patient and unyielding as the moon was… Yeosang still felt an itch inside of him.

He wanted Wooyoung to stop hurting  _ now. _ He wanted him to stop looking so sick and lost and agonized  _ right now. _

No one deserved to look so lost. So broken. 

“Patience,” was all Seonghwa told him quietly, smiling comfortingly. “One day at a time, remember?”

Yeosang stared for a moment before managing a weak but genuine smile. “Okay,” he murmured, stilling the storm inside of himself for a moment.

Seonghwa left and Yeosang ate the food that tasted almost like soot. He took a nap when the food made him lethargic- grateful that at least he was resting without it being forced upon him by his own body.

Gods didn’t dream. 

Most of the time, even when they slept, it was like resting really, really deeply. They were usually at least partially aware of their surroundings. They normally just chose to ignore them, almost like a real sleep.

Yeosang had gotten used to ignoring the vague noise that was the hustle and bustle of the ship. He would usually sleep right through it, chalking any sort of loud or alarming noise to Yunho falling from the rigging or San and Jongho threatening to throw Mingi overboard.

Or maybe just Hongjoong finally deciding to get some sort of upgrade or repair done with hammers and saws going on in the background.

In some ways, that background noise had become comforting while he slept.

This time, though… the noise wasn’t a familiar one that blended in with the din.

It was different from the usual noises. 

Yeosang’s sleeping form twitched at what sounded like someone yelling. 

It didn’t sound like Mingi screeching for the others to let him go. Nor like Hongjoong or Seonghwa scolding San for being too rambunctious.

Only after what felt like much too long, Yeosang realized that the noise  _ was _ familiar. But not as part of the noise of the crew.

That was Wooyoung.

Unless they were unconscious from strain, a god had no trouble choosing when they woke up- like simply turning a key.

Yeosang’s eyes snapped open as he realized who was yelling, bolting upright in bed and frantically turning towards his door-

Just as he turned, the wall of his cabin splintered apart- exploding into chunks and shards as Yeosang cried out, flinching away and covering his face. He saw from the corner of his eye, a deep red lightning piercing through the wood before fading again.

Before the lightning had even recoiled, Yeosang was leaping from the bed- slightly disoriented from the sleep, but sure footed enough to race over the broken wood and turn down the hall-

Seonghwa stood outside the door, eyes glowing a threatening pearly white as he stared into the open space that used to hold the walls of Wooyoung’s cabin.

The hall was torn to shreds, but Yeosang didn’t pay it any mind as he raced forward.

Where his cabin used to be closed off, Wooyoung knelt in the middle of the floor- fingers plunged painfully into his hair as he cried out in broken off screams and yells of pain or anger-

Hongjoong sat in front of him, holding his shoulders tightly, even as Wooyoung thrashed-

His eyes burned an angry, acidic red- but his expression was one of fear and pain, helpless against the rage inside of himself.

Seonghwa’s arm caught Yeosang across the chest to keep him from rushing forward, Yeosang making a noise of frustration as Hongjoong shook Wooyoung. The hands holding onto him were burned and bleeding, but Hongjoong barely winced as lightning danced around him.

“Listen to me, Wooyoung!” he yelled over the snapping of wood and yelling. “It’s okay- You’re here! You’re safe here!”

Wooyoung cried out angrily, trying to jerk away, but Hongjoong held on tight, teeth gritting as the lightning slowly morphed almost into precise knives, rather than random bursts of rage-

One hit Hongjoong square in the chest, sending him flying backwards with a cry of pain-

Seonghwa flinched, cursing as he rushed forward, wind picking up-

Yeosang latched onto his arm, yanking him back and staring up at his glowing eyes pleadingly. “I can calm him!” he yelled over the wind and fire.

“No, you can’t,” Seonghwa snapped. “You’re still too weak from-“

“Not like that!” Yeosang cried quietly, glancing at Wooyoung who doubled over, arms wrapping around his stomach. “I can talk to him!”

Fear and panic felt very similar. 

“He can’t hear you right n-“

“ _ Please! _ ” Yeosang cried, voice breaking with his heart as Seonghwa stared at him.

They didn’t have time for in depth decision making. Seonghwa stared at him for only a second, lips tightening.

“Help Hongjoong,” Yeosang urged. “But I can help him-“

Seonghwa had seen, hadn’t he? Seonghwa was the one who told him that Yeosang was the one who could help-

“Be careful,” Seonghwa hissed- voice tight, but a thousand pleas within it as he rushed in, grabbing Hongjoong’s smoking body and dragging it away from the scene, blocking most of him with his own body.

Yeosang ignored the lightning flashing around him, the air inside the area sweltering and charged, but he dropped to his knees beside Wooyoung, not touching him.

“Let it,” Yeosang said quietly- just loud enough that Wooyoung might hear over the cacophony. “Wooyoung,” he urged, hand hovering over him, wincing as a bolt got too close. “ _ Wooyoung- _ let it run its course,” he pressed harder. “Stop trying to stop it-“

Wooyoung jerked away, breathing raggedly, body soaked in sweat-

Yeosang laid a gentle hand on his back, flinching as lightning stung him. “Wooyoung,” he pressed harder. “Stop hurting yourself-“ He had to raise his voice as the wind picked up around them, the ship rocking sickeningly. “ _ Wooyoung _ ! Listen to me!” he called.

He curled his fingers tightly in Wooyoung’s shirt, the other making some sort of dangerous snarl in warning.

Yeosang didn’t let go- not tugging or restricting him, but just holding on.

Violence would only breed more violence from him.

There was a guttural, choking noise from Wooyoung as he collapsed over his knees, jerking painfully- pained cries mixing with gritting whimpers.

Wooyoung’s arm suddenly lashed out, shoving Yeosang in the chest so hard he fell back, hitting the ground hard and sitting back up rapidly, heart rate rising-

“Yeosang!” Seonghwa called- either a warning or something scared.

Wooyoung tried to lift his head, expression warped with the pain and trying to combat it-

His eyes glowed a burning red.

But tears were streaming from his eyes silently.

As quick as the sight was shown to Yeosang, knocking the breath from him as his heart wrenched, Wooyoung doubled over again, a choked off cry stuck in his throat as more lightning ricocheted-

Yeosang moved forward.

He was almost scared for a moment because everything suddenly got very quiet. As if the sound had been turned off. He could still see the lightning flying and the wind knocking around pieces of wood.

But he didn’t hear anything but his own heartbeat- loud and fast. His vision tunneled until all he saw was Wooyoung, curled up and powerless against his own elements.

He wasn’t lashing out. He wasn’t overflowing with hatred and anger.

Wooyoung was as scared and helpless as any of them against forces that were too large for anyone to handle- much less to handle two. He was silently begging for the same thing the rest of them had begged for.

_ Help. _

Yeosang crawled back to Wooyoung, stopping and wincing as the charge of electricity made him taste metal on his tongue.

Yeosang braced himself, plunging his hands forward- biting back a hiss of pain as the lightning got too close-

His palms cupped Wooyoung’s feverish cheeks, lifting his head gently but firmly- not giving the option to jerk away.

The skin on skin contact made it feel like Yeosang was holding a metal bar in a lightning storm- hair standing on end and electricity racing through his muscles.

Wooyoung jerked up at Yeosang’s touch, eyes wide and afraid-

And begging for someone who was stronger than himself to help.

Yeosang tugged Wooyoung closer, until both of them could only see each other, only a few inches separating them.

Wooyoung’s blank eyes focused on him.

_ Good, _ Yeosang wanted to scream.

“Listen to me,” he said forcefully, not even sure if he was speaking loud enough for Wooyoung to hear as his body continued twitching in pain. “You have to ground yourself, Wooyoung!”

A cry got stuck in his throat as Wooyoung tried to flinch and tear away-

Yeosang pulled him back, forcing him to focus on him once more, eyes hard and desperate. “Focus, Wooyoung,” he snapped. “You’re Wooyoung, remember? Even if War is running through you- You aren’t just War! You’re  _ Wooyoung. _ ”

Wooyoung was staring at him, lips parted in apparent helpless confusion. He had stopped thrashing, though, even if he kept jerking minutely, still staring…

“Let it run its course,” Yeosang urged, his skin hot beneath his palms. “Stop fighting it. Let it go- just focus on grounding yoursel-“

“AH!”

Wooyoung flinched, ripping his head from Yeosang’s hands, choking of cries as his nails dug into the floor-

Yeosang wasn’t panicking.

But he most certainly was not calm.

He touched Wooyoung’s arm, trying to get him to focus on him again, but jerked back immediately, his skin burning too hot to touch-

He was going to fade. Die. Something-

Yeosang felt his eyes stinging as he grabbed Wooyoung by the back of his shirt, forcing him to sit up, breathing raggedly and sweat dripping down his face-

“Wooyoung!” he yelled, forgetting to be composed as he grabbed him by the shoulders, ignoring how his hands burned. “You have to focus!” he urged, his heart rising to his throat. “Focus on me!”

Wooyoung lifted his eyes with what looked like a monumental effort, staring at Yeosang helplessly as his eyes burned almost too bright to look at.

“Do whatever you have to,” Yeosang snapped, shaking him lightly. “You’re going to die if you don’t stop this- Find something to focus on, Wooyoung! Whatever it takes,” he cried, feeling tears slipping down his face. “Just find a way to live-“ 

Wooyoung suddenly surged forward.

On instinct, Yeosang flinched back, but with how he was holding Wooyoung he didn’t get far.

Wooyoung’s shaking fists grabbed the front of Yeosang’s shirt, yanking him forward as Wooyoung’s lips burning at much too high a temperature slammed into his.

At first, Yeosang cried out because of how alarmingly hot everything touching him was- not even registering what was happening for a solid moment as Wooyoung held tighter to him.

However, barely a second later, Yeosang registered the frantic lips moving across his, almost painfully.

Perhaps, were he someone else, he would have shoved him away. Or been too taken aback to do anything.

But Yeosang had spent the last few centuries with Seonghwa and Hongjoong. He knew exactly what sort of thought process brought this about. And he knew what response was needed to make it effective.

He had somehow never really thought about having Wooyoung try something like this.

But there was barely a moment’s pause between when Wooyoung slammed their lips together painfully, and Yeosang tugged him closer, kissing him back just as hard.

Wooyoung’s eyes were clenched shut painfully tight, and Yeosang’s followed as he tried to tell whether Wooyoung was even breathing.

Didn’t matter.

His hands tangled in Wooyoung’s hair firmly, tugging him forward until Wooyoung shuffled blindly forward on his knees- his fists in Yeosang’s shirt turning into blunt nails digging into the nape of his neck and shoulder.

Yeosang dropped one arm, looping it around Wooyoung’s back and tugging him closer- until their knelt chest to chest, as close as they could get without being on top of each other.

If Wooyoung’s lips were too hot, it felt like embracing a burning log to have his body pressed against Yeosang’s- terrifyingly similar to how Yeosang had found him that time he had calmed him.

When Wooyoung’s tongue pressed forward-it was frantic and desperate, but something undeniably hesitant about it.

Whether it was because Wooyoung didn’t want to or if he thought it was going too far, Yeosang didn’t know. But he changed his hold from painfully tight to tight enough to be a tether, squeezing Wooyoung’s side gently as he let him in.

Maybe he was getting used to it, but his tongue didn’t seem as burning hot as the rest of him- swiping quick and desperate across Yeosang’s. Not battling or taking, but like he was frantically trying to see if this was doing anything.

Yeosang merely held him a bit gentler as Wooyoung rose higher onto his knees, gaining a bit of height that Yeosang allowed without breaking stride-

Wooyoung’s hand rested at the curve of Yeosang’s jaw, and it didn’t burn where he touched.

He kept kissing Yeosang- alternating between moving too fast to breathe and just practically panting into Yeosang’s mouth, fingers grabbing and clenching whatever part of Yeosang they could settle in.

Yeosang wasn’t holding Wooyoung down anymore. He simply held him like he might any other- his hand rubbing a slow circle on the small of his back.

The temperature of the earth seemed to have risen a dozen degrees.

But it no longer hurt to touch Wooyoung. Yeosang’s heart had actually managed to slow, and he didn’t quite hear as much wood snapping or wind whipping. He kept his whole focus on Wooyoung, though.

When he felt tears dripping onto his face, Yeosang’s eyes fluttered open. Their kiss never broke, but he stared at Wooyoung’s contorted face, as if he was clenching every muscle in his body, waiting for them all to break away.

Yeosang brought a shaking hand to Wooyoung’s face- brushing the sweat-heavy bangs from his forehead gently.

Wooyoung’s eyes fluttered slightly at the touch before shutting tight once more, pressing forward with a new vigor, as if afraid something was going to catch up to him-

But his eyes were no longer red.

Yeosang began to take back a bit of control- tugging Wooyoung back slightly, closing his mouth to lighten the kiss, though he didn’t stop it completely yet.

Wooyoung made a panicked noise in the back of his throat, holding onto Yeosang tighter when Yeosang began to pull away slowly.

“Wooyoung,” he managed around Wooyoung’s lips that still wouldn’t stop kissing, desperately grounding himself, trying not to let himself fade. “W-Wooyoung, look-“

Wooyoung shook his head sharply, eyes shut and more tears streaking in terrified streams.

Yeosang pulled away, disconnecting their lips that were slick and bruised, but before Wooyoung could even realize it had stopped, he was pulling Wooyoung down against his chest, holding him tight enough for Wooyoung to make a pained noise.

Yeosang curled around him.

“Look, Wooyoung,” he whispered hurriedly. “You’re safe now. Open your eyes.”

Wooyoung’s body trembled- not even from the tears, but just from the strain and the stress finally peeling away.

He ran his fingers through Wooyoung’s hair comfortingly while also guiding him upwards.

“It all stopped,” Yeosang whispered into his hair. “Look around, Wooyoung- It’s over for now.”

It took a few more seconds before he lifted his head shakily, even the effort of that seeming to almost be too much.

Wooyoung was shaking, breathing heavily to the point of hyperventilation.

Worn, tired, bruised eyes flickered around the area.

Yeosang also looked around for the first time. Everything in the room was destroyed- Seonghwa holding Hongjoong as they crouched near where the door had been. The entire wall leading into the hallway was torn open.

The opposite wall of the room also had a chunk missing- exposing the sea a few feet below.

Wooyoung looked slowly, taking in every piece of destruction around him. Something built in his eyes- almost like he might sob, but there was horror and regret stained thicker than anything.

His eyes screamed a clear message:  _ I did this? _

Yeosang ran a shaking hand up his back. “You did it,” he said quietly, still feeling like he could cry at any minute, too. “You grounded yourself, Wooyoung.”

His eyes snapped over to Yeosang, widening as he seemed to realize why he was still here and not burnt to ash. He shifted, like he was trying to sit up or back away from Yeosang, something closer to fear crawling into his eyes.

“I- No, I d-didn’t-“

His voice was basically nonexistent from all the screaming, but even as Yeosang caught his arms gently, trying to hold him, to keep him calm, Wooyoung’s eyes rolled back and he collapsed forward.

Yeosang caught his chest, guiding him down until he laid across his knees, head pillowed on his thighs.

He stared at Wooyoung for a moment, feeling the most sickening rush of relief and fear in his stomach.

He turned quickly, staring at Seonghwa and Hongjoong with slight panic as his lips continued to sting as he wet them nervously.

Hongjoong’s eyes were dark as he stared at the two of them. Seonghwa’s hands supporting him in a sitting position as his clothing smoldered.

“I’d be angry about him breaking my ship,” Hongjoong said, voice rough as he winced, sitting up more. “But I think we’ve had enough yelling today.”

When he tried to stand, Seonghwa went with him, keeping a hand on his arm even when they found their balance.

Seonghwa’s grave expression was focused on Wooyoung. “Hopefully, this will be a turning point for everyone,” he murmured as they both walked over.

Hongjoong’s expression softened, though it lost none of its severity. “Are you alright?” he questioned, laying a gentle hand on Yeosang’s shoulder.

He nodded quickly, even if it made him a bit dizzy. “Y-Yes, I’m not hurt. Most of it missed me-“

“I meant with the kiss,” Hongjoong said, no amusement in his lightened expression. “Are you okay?”

Yeosang blinked, speechless for a moment. “I- I mean, I was surprised by it,” he said quickly, throat hurting and eyes still feeling like they might start crying any second. “But it’s not- He didn’t-“

His lips hurt, but more than anything he was relieved that it had worked.

“Yes,” he answered firmly without stuttering, looking Hongjoong dead in the eyes. “It was okay.”

Something flickered in Hongjoong’s eyes- maybe something knowing, or maybe something suspecting- but he nodded slowly. “Okay,” he said, looking relieved, if nothing else- the flash passing quickly.

“Does that mean it stopped?” Yunho’s voice asked.

He appeared in the hall, looking around the carnage in shock.

“It’s fine,” Hongjoong assured him, standing stiffly. “Come get Wooyoung to another bed since his is destroyed again.”

“He can use mine,” Yeosang volunteered as Yunho approached obediently.

“Maybe mine would be better,” Yunho said carefully as he squatted down beside them. “Since I don’t use it much…”

Yeosang didn’t know why he wanted to protest, but he stomped down the urge. It made more sense for him to go in a bed of someone who never used it. Yunho was usually somewhere outside. It made sense.

Yeosang kept himself still- not trailing after them when Yunho picked Wooyoung up and carried him carefully through the wreckage.

How scared had he been? Yeosang’s mind whispered eerily. How close to fading… for him to try something so desperate?

“We need to stop and repair,” Hongjoong muttered. “But where the hell-“

“Later,” Seonghwa said firmly, squeezing his arm. “For now- Yeosang, can you stand?” he asked, leaving Hongjoong’s side for a moment to take Yeosang’s hand and help him up. “Go back and rest,” Seonghwa told him sternly. “We’ll start taking care of things.”

“Let Mingi and the other take care of it,” Yeosang said firmly, fighting his grip for a moment. “You and Hongjoong should take a break, too-“

“We will,” Hongjoong assured him surprisingly quickly. “I’ll assign the others to start making plans. We’ll go rest, so you should, too.”

Part of Yeosang almost didn’t believe him, but he was emotionally drained more than any sort of physical ailment had made him.

He nodded numbly as Seonghwa walked him back to his room- carefully avoiding the debris. 

Yeosang’s mouth still hurt.

It wasn’t until Yeosang was settled in bed (after removing any wood debris) that Seonghwa spoke, patting his head quietly.

“You did a very good thing, Yeosang,” he whispered as Yeosang immediately began to close his eyes. “You saved him in more ways than one.”

Yeosang didn’t know what that meant.

But he could feel the vague pulse of Wooyoung’s presence a couple of doors down and the breeze from the holes in the ship. Everything was in carnage. Everything was nearly destroyed.

But somehow… Yeosang slept peacefully.

Gods did not dream. But he replayed the scene over and over… And it didn’t bring despair.

It was the closest thing to hope Yeosang had felt for Wooyoung yet. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had so much fun with this, I’m sorry ㅠㅠㅠ
> 
> Thank you so much for reading! You guys have been so amazing with the love for this! I hope the next chapter doesn’t get delayed, but I promise to try my best! 
> 
> I hope you’re all safe and healthy!!   
> Please let me know what you thought!   
> -SS


	4. Moonlight and Comfort (The First of Its Kind)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello hello!! I’m a little nervous about this chapter, but I hope everything comes across well!   
> Once again, I’ve been a bit scatterbrained, but thank you all for all the love and support >ㅅ<  
> I hope you enjoy the chapter, and please let me know what you think!! I hope you’re all safe and happy!   
> -SS

Wooyoung could feel Yeosang staring.

He could have cried with gratitude that he hadn’t approached Wooyoung yet.

Wooyoung sat at the bow of the ship on his mat, a blanket wrapped around him like a child hiding from a thunderstorm as he stared out into the ocean.

He’d rather stare out there then turn and see what he had done to the ship. 

You couldn’t see much from the main deck, but as soon as he got anywhere near the staircase, you could see the wreckage of the splintered wood.

He felt… horrible. His muscles were shaking, his skin felt clammy, his head swam with dizziness…

Wooyoung always imagined that if he ever actually got to sleep, it would make things better. But he had been unconscious three times now, and each time only made him worse than the last.

But even as his stomach rocked with the ship, Wooyoung felt…felt… 

His head wasn’t clear in the slightest. But he had been given a brief moment of relief from feeling like his entire consciousness was about to be sucked away.

Wooyoung couldn’t say that he had felt fear, yesterday, as his body seemed to be tearing itself apart. More like he had felt so much, he had been numb.

All he knew was that he was going to die.

There had been no fear, but he had known, in his entire being, that there was nothing he could do. He knew that Hongjoong was there, shaking him and yelling at him.

He knew that Seonghwa was there- yelling something from a distance as Hongjoong slapped Wooyoung, shook him, gripped him hard enough to nearly broke bone-

Wooyoung could hear him, but it was like being stuck in a tornado- Hongjoong nothing more than a blur that passed by again and again, but Wooyoung was going too fast, too out of control to ever really see him.

It hurt.

It hurt  _ so fucking bad. _

Hongjoong’s presence made War rise faster and Love surge more painfully-

It somehow felt like the rage lasted hours, but only seconds at the same time. Wooyoung’s entire body was burning itself away- lightning and a terrifying buzz that felt like it was turning his muscles to liquid-

And then Yeosang was there.

He was still nothing but a blur in the whirlwind, but Wooyoung knew he was there. Sitting before him, yelling at him-

_ Gods, _ the way Love’s pain redoubled. A thousand volts running up his spine- so different from the stupid buzzing that he once thought was agony.

Yeosang approached, and Love started thrashing like a wounded animal trying to break free for the last time.

Desperate, Wooyoung lashed out, shoving him back, trying to save himself some sort of miniscule pain- even as the back of his mind cried out at shoving him away.

Yeosang had told him to just let it run its course, to stop fighting it-

How?

How could you ever have something like this running through you, and just lay down and let it happen? He already felt like he was dying-  _ how _ on this forsaken earth was he supposed to just let go and let it run its course?

How could he do that?  _ It hurt so bad- _

Yeosang’s hands were cold when they touched Wooyoung’s face. Icy, frigid- like he had them submerged in ice water for hours. They burned worse than the storm inside of him. 

But for a brief moment, it overpowered the unbearable fire burning his everything.

Yeosang forced his head up, forced him to look him in the eyes-

Yeosang was there, and for a brief moment, things were slow enough for Wooyoung to actually see him. Barely a whisper of a millisecond, but it was enough.

He saw Yeosang’s face- pale, fierce, and begging him to focus.

And fear raced through him faster than the lightning ever could.

He didn’t want to die.

_ “You aren’t just War!” _

He didn’t want to die- Yeosang was there, he was telling Wooyoung something, but Wooyoung was already swept back into the pain and fiery winds-

_ “Focus on me!” _

Helpless, he obeyed, lifting his eyes that burned and strained to remain open against the waves and waves of pain-

Yeosang was crying.

War flinched back- 

He was Wooyoung. Not War. 

It hurt so bad-

_ “You’re going to die if you don’t stop this-“ _

He didn’t want to die. 

_ “Find something to focus on, Wooyoung!”  _

Yeosang was there-  _ he didn’t want to die. _

_ “Whatever it takes-“ _

Yeosang shook him slightly.

It was like rattling a marble loose inside a jar, sending it crashing around the delicate glass.

Love surged up his spine enough that it felt like all his bones had been turned to liquid-

For a moment… Love overpowered War.

Like a whip to the back of a horse, Wooyoung didn’t think as the agonizing buzz arcing through his back made him jerk forward. No sooner than it came did Wooyoung lose his awareness for a moment, like he had been thrown upside down in his tornado-

Reality slammed into him with the force of a moon crashing to the earth, winding him more than the pain ever had-

_ Yeosang. _

He shone clear in Wooyoung’s mind for a terrifying moment, and Wooyoung latched onto him painfully tight, fear and terror making him cling with every ounce of consciousness that War and Love had nearly robbed him of.

He clung and he let the presence of Yeosang wash over him like waves powerful enough to sweep him away. 

But he felt rooted in reality as Yeosang’s hands slowly coaxed him away. 

Wooyoung knew what he had done.

Sitting here on the deck, wrapped in his pathetic little blanket, he knew what he had done to Yeosang.

And that, more than anything, threatened to make him sick.

He woke up feeling suffocated, Yunho helping him to the deck while being blessedly tight lipped about everything that had happened yesterday. 

Wooyoung had been here all day, breathing steadily to try and calm the random surges of electricity or fear clinging to his chest.

Yeosang had thankfully kept his distance, sparing Wooyoung from having to face him.

Whether that distance was kept out of discomfort or respect, Wooyoung didn’t know. Did it really matter?

He ate when they brought him food.

He didn’t speak when they asked him questions about how he was feeling.

Hongjoong and Seonghwa hadn’t come around all day.

Wooyoung’s grip tightened on the blanket until his knuckles whitened. He had destroyed this ship. Just like before. Only this time- even if he  _ was _ strong enough to fix it himself- the damage was far too severe.

He didn’t know the full extent of it, but he was surprised they were still sailing.

He heard the stairs creaking behind him, but he didn’t turn, feeling Seonghwa and Hongjoong’s presences approaching.

“You guys are finally coming out?” San joked, though his voice was flat with apprehension.

There was a weak chuckle from a couple of them.

Everything today had been colored sour by Wooyoung’s presence. 

“We’ve been trying to plan some things out,” Hongjoong said in way of apology. “Jongho has managed to patch us up enough that we’re in no danger of sinking, but… Well…”

“Either more serious repairs or a new ship entirely are a much better option,” Seonghwa supplied helpfully. “We’ve been trying to plan.”

“For what?” Yunho questioned, sounding troubled. “I mean… We’re in the middle of nowhere.”

“We need repairs or a new ship,” Hongjoong said, voice level with emotionlessness. He was keeping them calm. “We’re weeks away from anywhere that would have those. We could make it back to a port, but…”

Wooyoung stiffened as he felt eyes on him.

Going back to land would mean something bad for him. He didn’t know what exactly it meant, but… For the first time, Wooyoung felt a cold fear settle on him at the thought of going back to land.

To endless War…

“There’s still land nearby,” Seonghwa continued confidently. “We’ve been heading towards it, just in case something like this happened. It’s supposedly uninhabited, at least it has been every time we’ve passed through.”

“But it’s been decades at this point,” Hongjoong explained. “However, it’s better than risking going back to busy ports.”

“Do you think the island would have enough supplies for effective repairs?” Yeosang asked quietly.

Wooyoung flinched at his voice, but if the others noticed, they didn’t even pause.

“Going back towards more populated land is out of the question,” Hongjoong explained firmly. “We will head towards the island. If we have enough there to make good repairs, we will do that. If not…Seonghwa and I considered-“

“If the worst happens,” Seonghwa broke in gently, “we’ve planned to leave you all on the island while we travel to port to fix everything. We’d return after leaving you there. We’ve calculated it would be a week or more in each direction.”

“That’s only a last resort,” Hongjoong assured them sternly. “But it is a possibility.”

There was a long silence. Wooyoung couldn’t tell if they were agreeable to it or not.

He didn’t know what the hell he felt himself. 

Part of him wanted to tell them to just go back to land- just say to hell with him, for being the one to tear their ship apart yet again.

He’d told them that he had a debt to Hongjoong, for saving him like this. Technically, to all of them at this point. 

He was doing a shit job of repaying it.

“We can reach the island by tomorrow,” Hongjoong announced. “Just hang on a little longer till then.”

They dispersed now that the meeting was done. No one spoke to Wooyoung.

The sun slowly sank down until it was dark. Wooyoung watched blankly as the small crescent moon began to lift in the sky.

He couldn’t look at it for too long, ducking his head back down, almost ashamed to look at it.

The deck creaked, and he froze as he felt Yeosang drop down onto the deck beside him- a good bit of distance between them, but Wooyoung shifted away like he had crowded him, keeping his head down.

Yeosang’s presence felt like a magnetic force pushing against him. 

Wooyoung waited, breath held. 

But Yeosang was unbearably patient, the silence between them stretching further than Wooyoung had the strength to bear. He didn’t move, though. Whatever Yeosang had to say, Wooyoung was going to sit and listen to it.

That amount of punishment, he deserved.

“It’s not just you, you know,” Yeosang murmured quietly, his voice washing over Wooyoung like cool silver moonlight.

Wooyoung hated the gentle way Yeosang spoke to him, even now. 

Hated how it still wouldn’t twist in anger or disgust. 

He hated the almost fondness clinging to his understanding tone. 

But Wooyoung couldn’t help but glance over, eyes dark and lidded as Yeosang curled his knees to his chest while he stared up at the moon quietly.

_ Stop hurting yourself. _

Wooyoung looked away quickly, lips stiff.

“Hongjoong and Seonghwa,” he continued peacefully, voice much too calm and understanding, “they are both… more prone to struggling than someone like Yunho is. But Hongjoong is a bit worse at controlling himself than Seonghwa, even though they’ve both gotten a lot better.”

Did he expect Wooyoung to be comforted by the fact that there were others who went through the same thing? Empathy was not effective here.

“It’s a legitimate thing… what you did,” Yeosang murmured. “Hongjoong and Seonghwa do the same thing.”

Wooyoung looked over so quickly, something in his aching neck cracked. Yeosang looked over, startled by the sudden movement, but his expression softened much too quickly.

“They’re… together, you know, right?”

Wooyoung sort of knew. He knew the things they did, and he knew that there was a form of Love between them, but there was Love between everyone here.

Beneath it all, he knew their Love was different from the others. 

“They’re… exclusively together,” Yeosang said carefully, smiling quietly, almost amused. “And they have been for centuries. Since… Actually, it might not have been long after you first met them. And if they have their way, they’ll be this way until they fade.”

Wooyoung could feel that there was something between them. A special, different Love than anyone else on this ship held. 

And he had seen…. vague, blurred flashes of things he knew made them special to each other. 

However, lots of gods hung around each other, and sometimes they found gods they liked more than others, but it was… extremely rare to find gods who were together for much more than pleasure or entertainment to pass the time.

Maybe they held genuine fondness for each other, but… it didn’t make sense for a god to truly Love another god. What was the point? They weren’t mortals, they were immortal concepts.

Love was for mortals. Gods lived too long- They were too  _ much _ to have things like mortals had love.

“They use that as a grounding technique, in addition to their feelings,” Yeosang told him comfortingly. “Depending on the person, it might be the only thing that works. Hongjoong doesn’t tend to feel much pain when he loses control. Seonghwa, you can usually just touch him and ground him. But…”

Something in Yeosang’s expression twisted, pained and empathetic, but searching for the right words.

He looked at Wooyoung and saw too much. 

“It isn’t as if you did something despicable,” Yeosang said firmly, hand hovering closer to Wooyoung. “It’s not as if you did something so unthinkable or completely out of your mind… What you did was something that worked. And that makes it worth it.”

“I forced it on you,” Wooyoung muttered darkly into his knees, feeling ill.

“It was just a kiss.”

“Does that  _ matter _ ?” he snapped quietly, lips curling in disgust. “I just…  _ did it,  _ and you certainly would have never pushed me away, if you thought it would stop me from fading.” He wrapped his blanket tighter, expression darkening.

Yeosang was quiet.

“Wooyoung… you were dying.”

“Does that  _ excuse _ it?” He snapped, voice echoing slightly in the darkness as he turned heated eyes on Yeosang who stared at him as if he were innocent. “I  _ took _ that from you, Yeosang- It doesn’t matter  _ why _ I did it.”

“You can’t exactly ask for consent while you’re being torn apart from the inside,” Yeosang pressed, voice almost angry, but falling short. “I truly didn’t mind, Wooyoung- and if you  _ had _ asked, I would have said yes in a  _ heartbeat. _ ” 

“It doesn’t-“

“Your life is not worth less than my comfort,” he finally snapped back, expression open and desperate. “Wooyoung- there are a million things you could become angry with yourself about. Don’t make this one of them.” 

“This is one of the worst things I’ve done!” Wooyoung said loudly, chest tightening as Yeosang reached for him comfortingly. “I’m not- not supposed-“

“Wooyoung-“

“ _ That isn’t what Love does! _ ”

Yeosang drew back in surprise, eyes widening at the loud yell, expression falling slightly-

Wooyoung gripped his fist as the painful buzz collected at the bottom of his spine. “Love isn’t supposed to take!” he yelled. “It- It’s not supposed to- to just steal something like that! That isn’t Love! I’m not- That’s not what I am! It- It-“

He felt like he was going to be sick.

Yeosang’s expression fell in understanding, reaching out tantalizingly slow.

Wooyoung jerked away, skin crawling. “Do you understand how it feels to do something so  _ wholly _ against your nature?” A shiver ran across his skin.

It felt dirtying. Something so wrong… in every way.

He took that from Yeosang. For his own selfish reasons. 

Maybe War took and destroyed without remorse… but it wasn’t War that made Wooyoung kiss Yeosang.

In his distractedness, Yeosang had caught Wooyoung’s wrist, holding it tightly.

“Wooyoung,” he said sternly, making him look. His eyes were hard with worry. “Calm down,” he said gently, rubbing his thumb across his wrist. “You’re going to hurt yourself.”

Wooyoung hadn’t even realized his breathing had picked up, or that his heart was pounding- He took a reactionary deep breath.

It seemed to come easier with Yeosang there.

Wooyoung’s entire attention suddenly slammed into focus on Yeosang- on the hand around his wrist, the gentle touch, and just the cool, pulsing presence that was solid and real compared to the painful static in his brain. 

There was a moment where they both just stared at each other, Wooyoung’s heart seeming to stop completely in his chest. Yeosang’s eyes weren’t actually glowing- they were just reflecting the actual light of the moon.

It was still painted with that eerie sense that Yeosang was looking inside of him.

And while it was unsettling, still… Wooyoung kept almost… almost wanted to make it easier for him to see.

Because Wooyoung certainly wasn’t doing anything to help himself. If Yeosang could look and see what was wrong… Who was Wooyoung to try and stop that?

Let Yeosang tear him apart without a single touch- Wooyoung deserved it for what he did. 

“Do you know what else is part of Love?” Yeosang whispered quietly between the two of them.

His expression softened into something understanding and pained. His other hand lifted slowly, coming towards Wooyoung’s cheek. If he wanted to, he could knock it away or dodge it.

But he just sat there… staring as Yeosang’s cool hand cupped his cheek gently.

Wooyoung was getting… increasingly complacent when it came to Yeosang.

“Forgiveness,” Yeosang murmured, eyes begging Wooyoung. “I forgive you, Wooyoung. Is that what you need to hear?” His thumb stroked the swell of his cheek. “Forgive  _ yourself,  _ Wooyoung. You did something life-changing back there. Don’t regret it.”

“What did I do?” he whispered self-deprecatingly. “All I did-“

“You wanted to  _ live, _ ” Yeosang pressed firmly, expression pinching. “You wanted to live so badly, you were willing to do anything, Wooyoung. Don’t you see how much you’ve grown since you arrived? You wanted to  _ live. _ ”

It wasn’t… that he wanted to live. It was that he didn’t want to die.

Was that the same thing?

“Can you forgive yourself?” Yeosang asked gently. “If I forgive you?”

Wooyoung’s mouth was too dry to speak, his throat swallowing uselessly as he mentally flapped his mouth.

It was a disturbing thought, looking back on it. His body physically rejected the memory of him grabbing Yeosang and yanking him forward. 

What good was forgiveness for what he’d done? 

But Wooyoung couldn’t say that- his tongue stuck to his mouth as Yeosang stared like a weight on his chest. 

Yeosang was… somehow an overwhelming presence. Even as weak as he was.

A tiny circle hanging in the sky, barely giving enough light to see by… but it was a force that commanded oceans and kept its path, despite the centuries passing. Something so unassuming and far away… but it was its magnetic and gravitational force that made you look at it.

Yeosang seemed to read every thought and intention inside of Wooyoung, who could only stare wordlessly.

“Do you need to do something to make up for it?” Yeosang asked, eyes flickering, searching for understanding. “Do you think you need to atone for it, somehow?” His delicate face was so gentle. So patient. 

The moon was always beautiful. Whether it was shrouded in darkness or shining its brightest, there was something about it that was enrapturing. Something that just made you stop and stare for a while.

Not gawking, but almost… basking in it.

Yeosang was very beautiful.

“Fine,” Yeosang said quietly, lips turning up in a gentle smile that reached his eyes. “Ask me this time.”

Wooyoung could had torn himself away, glaring and demanding what the hell was wrong with Yeosang. 

Instead, he didn’t move. “No,” he said quietly, expression pulling down slightly. “No, I’m not- That doesn’t make anything better-“

“Well, if your definition of ‘better’ is undoing what has already been done… then nothing can make it better, Wooyoung,” he said quietly, much too knowing. “You went against your nature. And that’s hurting you. So, balance the scales again. Do what Love needs to feel right again.”

Wooyoung wanted to tell him that it made no sense.

This didn’t fix anything.

It wouldn’t do anything to ease the discomfort and sludge in his veins-

“Fine,” Yeosang said quietly, eyes falling down before flickering back up. He opened his arms slowly. “Come here,” he urged.

Wooyoung was still just staring.

Yeosang opened them further. “If you don’t want to redo it, fine. But come here, I can’t stand the way you’re looking like I deserve to scourge you.”

Yeosang always seemed… as if he were physically hurt by Wooyoung’s emotions.

And each time, it made a buzz appear at the bottom of his spine.

When Wooyoung didn’t move, Yeosang tugged on his arm gently, trying to guide him forward. Part of Wooyoung wanted to reject it, knowing that that wouldn’t fix anything either.

But Yeosang was looking at Wooyoung… as if the only thing he wanted in the world… was to make him stop looking like that.

Wooyoung moved forward, letting Yeosang tug him forward slightly.

Wooyoung knew… that being around Yeosang was comforting. He knew that the Moon Child’s presence was calming and grounding… and even if it was nothing but a product of his element…

Wooyoung couldn’t help but be drawn to it. Couldn’t help but want him near… even if he scoffed and snapped and yelled.

Things felt  _ better _ when he was near. 

And Yeosang stayed beside Wooyoung, despite doing all those things, for some reason.

There was a reason… that Yeosang kept coming back. Kept offering that comfort… 

There was a reason. Wooyoung wasn’t sure what it was, though.

But there was a reason that even as Yeosang intimidated, unsettled, and angered him… Wooyoung kept reaching out for that comfort, even when he had told himself that he was just going to sit and pass the time alone.

Yeosang hugged Wooyoung like he was drowning, and Wooyoung was the thing keeping him from going under.

And it almost made Wooyoung want to laugh. Because shouldn’t he be the one holding onto Yeosang like that? But Yeosang clung to him like Wooyoung was the thing keeping him from fading- his body suddenly warm and solid against Wooyoung’s.

Wooyoung’s head rested on Yeosang’s shoulder as his hands lay limp on Yeosang’s sides, not knowing what to do.

Yeosang’s arms tightened, drawing Wooyoung closer, eyes shut tightly. He hugged him hard enough to restrict breathing…

But Wooyoung closed his eyes, taking a selfish moment to let the pressure and warmth of the embrace wash over.

Like falling beneath the waves of the raging ocean. Sinking beneath the tumultuous surface… and somehow finding calm waters.

Wooyoung felt like he had taken a breath for the first time in days.

“I forgive you,” Yeosang said, voice strained with how hard he embraced him, fingertips pressing against him tightly. “If that’s that you need to hear:  _ I forgive you, _ Wooyoung.”

His voice was thick.

And Wooyoung took another painful breath that seemed to clear his head for the first time all day. The next breath shook. And the next one choked.

Wooyoung felt that same pressure in his throat- the one that he now knew was neither Love nor War. He tried to swallowed it back down, lowering his head until it pressed to Yeosang’s shoulder.

He could feel himself shaking against Yeosang’s solid frame.

Yeosang saw too much of Wooyoung. 

But he was slowly tugging up parts of Wooyoung he had long since thought dead. And it was equal parts terrifying and relieving. 

When he took the next clearing breath, things broke on the exhale that quickly descended into a weak sob that sounded so pitiful, Wooyoung could… could…

The anger inside of him sputtered out like a weak flame.

“You didn’t do anything wrong, Wooyoung,” Yeosang whispered, his voice as unsteady as Wooyoung’s breathing. “Don’t blame yourself for this. Not this…”

Nothing wrong…

There were constant waves of buzzing traveling up his spine, but at this point, Wooyoung could ignore them as nothing more than something that had become almost familiar, at this point. 

He cried.

And Yeosang held him tighter, tucking his face against Wooyoung’s hair, gentle lips pressing to his temple.

Wooyoung finally figured out what to do with his hands as they fisted the back of Yeosang’s shirt, grounding Wooyoung-

Not in the way he had needed before. This was different.

He clung to Yeosang, and Yeosang held on just as tight. Wooyoung could feel dampness against his cheek where Yeosang rested.

If he thought about it, he might have vomited at the buzzing traveling through his bones in endless surges and rivers, but he ignored it- letting it course through him as he focused on Yeosang’s arms holding him tighter-

His eyes flew open.

Was this… what he meant? Letting it run its course?

If Wooyoung thought about it, he might flinch away, tensing up and trying to turn in on himself to make it stop-

He didn’t, though. He held Yeosang tighter, ignoring the waves of nausea, and he… he simply let it pass over him.

He still braced himself, waiting for it to get overwhelming, but… it didn’t. This wasn’t a very powerful wave of his elements, but even the small surges being controlled was…. 

Unthinkable. 

Yeosang’s fingers curled at the base of Wooyoung’s neck, playing gently with the hairs growing longer there. A shiver ran down his spine, and it had nothing to do with Love.

Yeosang was comforting him.

And for… for the first time since he arrived here… 

Maybe the first time in his entire  _ existence… _ Wooyoung let himself be comforted.

Really and truly. Without waiting for it end, without thinking of all the ways it was useless, without letting the rising Love inside of him overpower the physicality of it…

Yeosang comforted him. And Wooyoung set aside War and Love, and simply let  _ Wooyoung _ be comforted. 

Love washed over him like a background noise.

And Wooyoung let it.

~~~~~~~~~

They arrived at the island by midday the following day, the sun high in the sky.

Despite everything… everyone seemed in good spirits.

Somehow, everyone on this ship seemed to continuously know every little thing that happened on it. There was always someone lurking around to witness everything that Wooyoung had ever done.

So it wasn’t a surprise that Seonghwa had looked at him that morning and smiled quietly, like he was proud of him for something.

Somehow, everyone knew that Wooyoung had been comforted. 

Everyone knew everything. And even as Wooyoung’s stomach was tying itself in knots at the thought of going to this island and the events that may follow it…

The others smiled at him. Quiet and comforting, from their distance… And it made a buzz collect at the bottom of his spine.

As it shot through him in response to their amiability, Wooyoung swayed slightly with the force of it, his face twitching with discomfort as it grew, but… He didn’t double over or flinch or tense…

He managed a weak, weak, pitiful smile back at them that surely didn’t reach his eyes. It probably looked more placating then genuine.

But the shining warmth he got out of their eyes in response said otherwise.

San even braved a hand on his shoulder, squeezing with a broad grin. “You’ve gone through a lot,” he said quietly. “Let’s make it through this, too, okay?”

The others fluttered around him during the morning, preparing everything they would need, none of them stopping to stare or gawk… Wooyoung was left to his own devices, but at no point did he feel… alone.

Yeosang’s presence was a constant background noise, but even aside from him, Wooyoung felt very little urge to drift with all the hustle and bustle around him. 

He spent the morning practicing forcing himself to relax, fighting the instinct to fight back against his own nature.

Start with one thread… and gently guide it until it loosened. Don’t tighten the other threads by accident.

Wooyoung stared at his hands that were red and bruised from the past few days, tensing and then immediately forcing his muscles to loosen, allowing it to run through.

Love was infinitely harder to ignore than War. Wooyoung was used to War- the only problem he came to with War was how powerful and desperate it was.

Love was leagues weaker and less prominent than War, but… it was a foreign sensation. One that his body still didn’t quite acknowledge as natural. Wooyoung was fighting his own nature once again, forcing his body to accept Love as a proper resident.

It felt like an impossibility that would take another thousand years to practice.

By the time the land came into view, Wooyoung was exhausted, but only physically. He didn’t feel the usual swirling storm that threatened to drag him under the moment he lost his concentration.

If he believed in jinxing things, he might almost be inclined to call it relieving. He knew it was much too rough a fix to last long, but for now…

He clenched a fist tightly, expression hardening.

For one day at a time… this would have to do.

~~~~~~~

They came upon the island by midday, Hongjoong standing at the helm with a stiff, concerned expression on his face.

Even as he tried to focus on his objective, his mind kept wandering as he stared at Wooyoung leaning against the rails, staring out with dark, pensive eyes.

Was this the worst of it passed them? He wondered. Or was another wave coming for Wooyoung? Was this the crest? Or had they not even seen the worst of it all yet?

If there was something worse coming… was Wooyoung even going to strong enough to ride it out? Hongjoong had to believe that he realized how close he had come to fading, even with Yeosang’s intervention and his own attempts to ground-

A finger pressed between his eyebrows, startling him and making him blink back into awareness.

Seonghwa stood before him, a soft smile and quiet, questioning amusement in his eyes. “You frown too much,” he said gently, coming to stand beside Hongjoong. “It makes you look ancient.”

“You’ve existed longer than me,” Hongjoong said, just to be petulant, but taking a slow breath to let some weight fall from his shoulders.

“Only a decade or so,” Seonghwa responded rotely, looking at him from the corner of his eye. “You are frowning too much right now. Nothing is wrong at this moment. Enjoy it for now.”

“And ignore the thousands of things that could go wrong at any moment?”

“Yes,” Seonghwa urged, chuckled lightly. “We’ve been living the past few weeks constantly on our guards. After last night… breathe,” he finally said. “Yeosang is taking the brunt of this for us. At least until things go wrong… just breathe.”

Sometimes Hongjoong wanted to glare at Seonghwa for always telling him to relax.

It was just their nature. The Sea was always something to fight against, even when it was being kind. It was constantly shifting and churning- struggling to keep up even with itself.

The Sky was the embodiment of freedom. Of floating here and there, unable to be tied down. Of just… going where the wind took you, and figuring it out when you got there.

The others liked to joke about Hongjoong managing to tie Seonghwa down, but… No. Hongjoong would never be able to manage that. 

Seonghwa was more free-spirited than any person on this earth. But he was also the most selfless person Hongjoong had ever met- god or otherwise. He was good at controlling the urges of his nature- the urge to flit here and there, to float off, to never allow himself to stay in one place for too long…

But he wasn’t tied down, not really.

Seonghwa had once told Hongjoong that he felt like a kite on a string. Free to fly as high and wide as he liked… but always knowing exactly where he wanted to return to.

_ “You haven’t tied me down,” he assured Hongjoong quietly. “But even if you did… you are one person I wouldn’t mind tethering myself for. If it meant staying with you… I’d stay in one place the rest of my life.” _

Hongjoong knew he tended to keep fighting too much. He needed that person to tap him on the forehead playfully, smiling as he told Hongjoong he would get wrinkles if he kept it up.

He wondered if…

His eyes flickered over Wooyoung staring at the island… and Yeosang staring at Wooyoung where he had been trying to sweep the deck.

He wondered if Wooyoung realized that.

That sometimes you weren’t strong enough to fight your nature all the time. Sometimes you needed someone else to help, to tell you to pause… to calm you… to ground you, even when you weren’t in danger of losing yourself.

He was sure he would see it in time.

They dropped anchor a good distance from the island, Mingi and Jongho preparing the row boats to drop down.

Hongjoong hoped they could find good enough wood. There weren’t any beaches- just the dark, wet, hard packed soil leading into the water. Beyond that, there were thick trees. It gave Hongjoong hope that-

Wooyoung suddenly stood at the bow of the boat- stiff and turning left and right frantically, as if searching for a noise-

Everyone else stiffened, not sure if he was about to go into another frenzy. Before Hongjoong had even finished tapping Seonghwa to call his attention to the other, Yeosang was dropping the broom, rushing forward a few steps before stopping himself.

“Wooyoung?” he called carefully, hands still outstretched- either reaching or placating. Maybe both.

“There are people,” Wooyoung said, voice an odd sort of tight. “There’s a village or something,” He said quickly, still looking around frantically. “Not many, but- There are people here, it’s not deserted-“

There was definite panic building in Wooyoung’s voice, and Hongjoong turned to order the others to bring the boats up so they could get the hell out of here.

But before a word left his mouth, Yeosang was running up to the platform, grabbing Wooyoung firmly by his arm and stopping his frantic searching.

“Wooyoung,” he said- voice firm and calm. “Look- Look at me,” he urged when Wooyoung tried to keep fighting.

Like clockwork, Wooyoung looked at him, tense and jaw clenching tightly.

Yeosang’s grip loosed, one hand raising from his arm to place against his neck gently. “You can calm yourself,” he said, quiet enough for the rest of them to almost miss it.

Hongjoong glanced around and saw everyone holding their breath, waiting for the moment they realized they might need to get as much distance between Wooyoung and the island as possible.

“Breathe,” Yeosang guided calmly, eyes never leaving Wooyoung’s that stared at him helplessly. “Focus on me. You can hear me, right?”

Wooyoung nodded dumbly, taking breaths where Yeosang told him to, his body shaking. Yeosang didn’t seem to notice, brushing his thumb against Wooyoung’s skin soothingly, talking like you would to a frightened animal you didn’t want to bolt.

It occurred to Hongjoong as he watched… that Wooyoung had never  _ wanted _ to control his nature before. 

War had always overpowered Love, it seemed. And Wooyoung seemed all to eager to indulge in his more violent side. War had given him power, and Wooyoung had chased that, even if Love made him regret it.

The regret of Love could not outweigh the desires of War.

Wooyoung had never been in a position to want his element to be controlled. This wasn’t just needing to try harder or split his attention… it was about teaching Wooyoung the very  _ basics _ of how to keep from forgetting himself.

Wooyoung was like a child who had suddenly been handed a very large and dangerous weapon they were responsible for controlling.

“Actually  _ feel _ your element,” Yeosang told him gently, framing his face with his hands to keep him looking at him. “Do you actually feel any War? Or do you just sense the people?”

“There’s War,” Wooyoung said, sounding breathless, a light sheen of sweat on his skin. “I- I can feel it. There are people fighting-“

“Fighting how?” Yeosang questioned slowly, stroking his face soothingly. “Just arguing?”

“I- I don’t know,” he said, struggling to keep his breathing even while speaking. “It’s not… big. It’s small, but it’s-“

“Are you grounded?” Yeosang asked firmly, tapping his cheek gently when Wooyoung’s eyes flickered away. “Is this little bit of War going to hurt you? Think rationally, Wooyoung. Can you control this little bit of War? From this distance?”

One of the hardest things about controlling your element… was realizing that you were getting overwhelmed. Sometimes you underreacted… and sometimes you overreacted.

Wooyoung took several more breaths, eyes flickering around before closing tightly. Yeosang whispered something else to him, expression softened in pity.

Hongjoong slowly released the tension in his shoulders, already sensing how this was going to go.

“N-No,” Wooyoung whispered hoarsely, eyes still closed. “No, this won’t- It won’t hurt me. I can… I can control it.”

Wooyoung took a breath large enough to hurt before letting it go and opening his frightened eyes.

It was still somehow startling… to see the eyes Hongjoong was so used to seeing hardened in anger… and watching them open in glassy, vulnerable fear. 

But Yeosang… Yeosang was smiling gently at him- shining from his eyes more than it moved his lips. He whispered something to Wooyoung, and Hongjoong pressed his lips together.

Yeosang had comforted all of them so many times. He had calmed them using his powers, in a way. He had spent centuries among these six people, becoming part of them and loving them as much as they all loved him.

Hongjoong had never seen Yeosang look at someone the way he looked at Wooyoung.

It wasn’t just pity and a sense of obligation to keep Wooyoung alive and safe that drew Yeosang to Wooyoung. Hongjoong knew that now. It wasn’t just about keeping Wooyoung sane and alive.

Yeosang was drawn to Wooyoung for other reasons entirely.

Maybe… Seonghwa had been right.

~~~~~~~~

With Wooyoung’s help (drawn out of him in small bursts as he stopped to breathe as his face twitched, like little stings were appearing over his skin while he tried to keep focused), they figured out that there was a village somewhere on the east side of the island.

“We won’t bring Wooyoung any closer,” Hongjoong assured them, rolling up the sleeves of his shirt to his elbows. “We’ll take the row boats and make our way there. If you need to, bring the ship further out to sea. We should be back before tomorrow morning with some sort of news.”

Yeosang nodded firmly, his hand clasping Wooyoung’s limp hand tightly.

He wouldn’t hold Yeosang’s hand back, but he wasn’t shaking him off either.

Hongjoong, Seonghwa, Mingi, and Jongho would go to the village. 

(Jongho stared at the sparse forests covering the island, looking a little queasy from the proximity of his element, but smiling in comfort at seeing it again.) 

The rest would stay and help Yeosang watch Wooyoung. Yeosang told them they didn’t need to, but in the case something went wrong, it was good to have backup.

By the time night had fallen, the others had been gone for hours.

Yeosang sat near Wooyoung at the head of the ship, neither of them exchanging words, simply staring off into the trees that were visible from the ship.

Yunho and San sat in the rigging, talking quietly, legs swinging peacefully.

Wooyoung was doing… remarkably well as they sat there. He’d stare off, wince a bit as something ran through him. But Yeosang could hear him taking low breaths and forcing his tense body to loosen- like moving with a rapid current, rather than fighting it.

Yeosang smiled privately, his chest tightening.

Some sort of progress was being made.

They only spoke three times: each time, it was simply Wooyoung remaining tense too long or taking sharp breaths, and Yeosang merely murmuring quietly: “Relax.” Often accompanied by a gentle squeeze of their hands or idly stroking his thumb across Wooyoung’s skin. 

Jarred, Wooyoung would release a pained breath, but his body relaxed once more, swallowing thickly. 

Honestly, it was as much a comfort to Yeosang as it was to Wooyoung 

The moon was brighter, and Yeosang felt better than he had in days. He watched it rise into the sky as night moved on, finally having the balance to the storm on his mind. 

“Thank you…”

Yeosang had been on the cusp on telling the others to get some rest when Wooyoung spoke quietly, not looking at Yeosang but staring at his knees.

“Me?” Yeosang asked quietly.

Wooyoung nodded slowly. “For… everything,” he murmured under his breath. “At the time, everything was only a ridiculous thought, but… It helps,” he whispered. “The things you said. What you told me to do… What Hongjoong and Seonghwa said… It all…helped.”

Yeosang’s heart swelled in his chest, and he watched Wooyoung wince slightly.

“It’s exhausting, though,” Wooyoung muttered, rubbing at his chest. “Riding it out is almost more tiring than just fighting it.”

Yeosang chuckled sympathetically. “It’ll get better with time. The fact that you’re so far along after only weeks-“

“Well, I’m sure me almost tearing myself apart three times has sped up the process of losing some of that built up pressure,” Wooyoung muttered, resting his chin on his knees.

“It’s not the best feeling,” he assured him quietly. “But it’s better, maybe, than playing the long game.”

Wooyoung took a slow breath, holding it for so long Yeosang was beginning to be concerned before he released it, long and sluggish.

“Why do you care about me?” Wooyoung murmured, barely audible in the quiet night. Calm, dull eyes stared off, reflecting silver moonlight as he gazed out on the water.

Yeosang held his hands firmly in his lap, lips pressing together.

“I know why you don’t want me to fade,” he assured him. “And I know why you try and help me, but… Why do you…” His brows tugged down almost in confusion. “Why do you… look at me like that?” he whispered.

Yeosang blinked.

“Like…” Wooyoung’s mouth twisted slightly. “Like you’re hurting for me. But, then, like… like there’s something more you’re seeing. Why do you act like you’re seeing a completely different version of me?”

“I’m not,” Yeosang assured him quickly. “I see you exactly how you are, Wooyoung. That just may not be how you see yourself.”

“Then how do you see me?” he asked, almost a weak demand, finally turning to Yeosang with quiet, glassy eyes that flickered around his face slowly. “What do you see when you look at me, because from the beginning it’s been different from everyone else.”

Yeosang was very quiet for a moment, staring back at Wooyoung…

“The others called my gaze ‘unsettling’, sometimes,” he murmured quietly, holding Wooyoung’s gaze. “They described it like I can see parts of them that they had either hidden away or weren’t even aware were visible…”

He lowered his eyes for a moment, staring at his hands that he flexed. 

“But I always wondered how anyone could  _ not _ see those things,” he said firmly, glancing back up. “I didn’t realize that was apparently just something that came with my element for a long time. But apparently, I tend to see things for what they are- not what people present them as.”

“Like seeing Love when I first came,” Wooyoung murmured, looking entranced as he nodded along. Yeosang inclined his head slowly. Wooyoung frowned. “If that’s the case, then how could you see Love but not War immediately? You acted confused that I could be War.”

Yeosang was quiet for a moment, chewing on the inside of his lip for a moment. “I contemplated that, too,” he admitted. “And the only thing I could think of is that… perhaps you’re more Love than War.”

“I’m both,” Wooyoung said firmly, expression drawing down.

“No, you  _ have _ both,” Yeosang corrected. “I am not the Moon, Wooyoung. I’m Yeosang. I simply exist  _ with _ the Moon. You are not War or Love. You are Wooyoung. You simply  _ contain _ both War and Love.”

Wooyoung’s jaw tightened, as if the thought were painful.

These were the philosophies that they had come to accept with Hongjoong and Seonghwa. The two of them were the first Yeosang had heard of to call themselves human names for any reason other than amusement.

They named themselves to differentiate themselves from their elements. To ground themselves beyond the immortal concepts that inhabited them.

When Yeosang reached out to place a hand on his knee, Wooyoung didn’t flinch away.

“But do you not agree that I am like the Moon?” Yeosang murmured. “That Yunho is like the Sun? San, like the Mountains? We are not our elements, but we embody them. You embody two of them.”

“What does that have to do with anything?” Wooyoung huffed, looking away.

“At my core, I am like the Moon,” Yeosang explained calmly. “At your core, you are like Love and War. But, no one ever said you were completely, equally half War and half Love. One may be more prominent inside of you than the other.”

He turned back to Yeosang, frowning as if it was distasteful to think about.

“There is War inside of you,” Yeosang assured him. “But is it so impossible to think that Love has a greater place than you originally thought? You’ve spent your life suffocating Love… but does that mean it’s impossible that you might have had a weaker element in a greater quantity? And a stronger element in a smaller quantity?”

“A little War overpowering a lot of Love?” Wooyoung demanded skeptically. “That sounds ridiculous.”

“You cried when you struck me,” Yeosang said sharply, making Wooyoung flinch. “You regretted breaking the ship every time. You snap at me and then immediately shrink away, as if you’re ashamed of what you’ve done. You curse at us, but in your eyes, you’re crying out for a help that your tongue won’t let you ask for-“

Wooyoung paled, looking as if Yeosang had just struck him across the face mercilessly.

Yeosang had never had trouble seeing these things.

“For every action of War, you’ve had one of Love,” Yeosang said sternly, eyes sharpening. “And since being here, you’ve had more actions of Love than War. Love is returning, Wooyoung. You  _ smiled _ this morning,” he stressed.

The thought of it brought a smile to his lips too.

Wooyoung’s eyes widened.

“If War were your basic core, you would be controlling War, but you would still be angry and bitter and filled with a hatred and rage-“

“I thought I was,” Wooyoung whispered hoarsely, fists clenching. “I thought that’s what I was.”

“But you’re not,” he pressed, shifting closer to Wooyoung pointedly. “You’re brilliant, Wooyoung,” he whispered forcefully. “You’re vibrant, and there is so much life inside of you, as soon as we can stop everything hurting you so badly-“

Wooyoung winced, his arm shifting and grabbing Yeosang’s hand resting on his knee tightly.

“I don’t know how I see the things I see, Wooyoung,” Yeosang told him firmly, his vision swallowed by Wooyoung’s eyes staring at him… almost innocently. “But I can see them clear as day. When I look at you, I see  _ Love _ ,” he promised. “When you speak, everything you do,  _ everything- _ It’s L-“ 

Wooyoung jerked forward for a moment, and Yeosang was so sure he was about to close the short distance between them. He braced himself slightly, but Wooyoung pulled back as quickly as he moved forward- face pale and lips thinning as he turned away from Yeosang quickly-

Yeosang’s heart cracked as he reached up, grabbing Wooyoung’s chin gently and turning him back to face him.

Wooyoung kept his eyes averted, expression stiff and angry at himself-

They stayed like that for a moment, still and frozen in place. 

“Ask me,” Yeosang murmured quietly, watching Wooyoung shut his eyes tightly. “Ask me this time, Wooyoung.”

“No,” he muttered sharply, trying to turn away again. “It’s not- It’s this stupid element inside of me. It’s like the part of me that tells me to fight. It’s not  _ me,  _ it’s just-“

“Do you want to fight us?” Yeosang questioned quietly, head tilting. “When War tells you to fight- do you want to?” 

“No,” Wooyoung said, jerking his head away from Yeosang’s grip and glaring at him angrily. “You know I don’t.”

“Do you want to follow through on what you almost did?” he asked, a quiet eyebrow raising questioningly.

Yeosang was a bit too… complacent with things sometimes, according to Seonghwa.

Things happened to him, and he tended to just accept them and move on. It was part of change: things happened, and he simply absorbed them into his life without breaking stride.

Before Wooyoung had ever kissed him that first time, Yeosang was already well aware of the fact that if Wooyoung ever chose to take a step towards him, Yeosang wouldn’t step back.

It wasn’t… It wasn’t what Yeosang thought it would feel like. It wasn’t burning or aching or stunning… 

It just was. It simply existed. Like many other things in his life. 

Somehow, it had simply become part of everything else. A background noise, rather than a frontal assault to his senses. It wasn’t the thing he thought of when he looked at Wooyoung. But when he let himself think, it wasn’t an alarming thought to have.

So maybe he should have felt more… but all Yeosang knew was that it was something he was okay with. 

But Wooyoung seemed to be struggling with it. Obsessing and tormenting himself over it, whereas Yeosang simply acknowledged it and let it find a place in his heart to rest. 

“Stop saying stuff like that,” Wooyoung snapped, pushing Yeosang’s hand away and moving to stand-

Yeosang snatched his wrist, tugging him back down before he got far.

When Wooyoung looked at him to probably yell at him, he froze, staring at Yeosang’s eyes as if he was suddenly unable to look away.

Yeosang’s expression softened as his grip loosened until he was only caressing his wrist. “If the answer is ‘no,’” he murmured, “then you shouldn’t have a problem saying it, like you did with War. I’m asking for a real answer, Wooyoung. Not a deflection.”

“Well, if you can see everything anyway, you already know the answer,” he snapped, fist clenching but not yanking away.

“I don’t need to see everything,” Yeosang whispered quietly, his chest tightening at the hoops Wooyoung was leaping through. “And I don’t want to see it. I want to hear it. I want you to tell me whether or not- right now- you  _ want _ to do what you almost just did. What Love urged you to do.”

Wooyoung’s jaw tightened, eyes pained. “You already know the answer.”

“So why are you afraid to tell me, like I don’t already know?”

“Why do I have to say it?” His knuckles were white.

“Because you’re acting as if  _ you _ don’t know the answer,” Yeosang pressed gently.

“Then why do you care whether I want to do it or not?” he snapped defensively, though his expression was crumbling as his fight began to dwindle.

“ _ Wooyoung. _ ”

He stopped snapping, staring at Yeosang like he was waiting for him to cut the rope that Wooyoung was helplessly dangling from.

Wooyoung suddenly stood, and Yeosang leapt up with him, but he didn’t run. He merely crossed his arms tightly, turning in a stiff circle, like he was physically forcing himself to stay. 

Yeosang slowly untensed. 

Wooyoung’s jaw was stiff. “What does this have to do with Love or War?” he whispered thickly.

Yeosang’s expression fell slowly. “Wooyoung, I’m not asking about Love and War right now. I’m asking  _ you. _ ” 

“It doesn’t-“

“It  _ does _ matter,” Yeosang snapped quietly, glaring at him. “It matters because it’s about what  _ you _ want, Wooyoung. The things that you want  _ matter- _ just as much as the things you don’t.”

Wooyoung’s eyes were staring so hard at Yeosang, but his mind seemed to be imagining a million other things that didn’t look good.

Yeosang tugged him slightly, pulling his focus back to him firmly. “You said that Love doesn’t take things,” he said quietly.

Wooyoung made an aborted, weak jerk away, like he knew what was coming.

“I’m not going to take this from you, Wooyoung,” he assured him quietly, shifting closer. “I won’t do that to you, either.”

Wooyoung’s eyes were shaking, even as he tried to appear defensive.

“Do you want me to speak first?” Yeosang whispered into the quiet air. Wooyoung’s eyes widened in alarm. “Do I need to tell you, first, that I wouldn’t mind-“

Wooyoung leapt forward, his hand slamming over Yeosang’s mouth tightly to stop him from speaking, eyes wild with a kind of a fear that only came from the darkest part of your heart.

Wooyoung didn’t even say a thing, just stared at Yeosang as if he had just almost killed them both- something desperately begging him to stop.

Yeosang’s heart was breaking even as it was ordering him to move onward. 

He didn’t understand Wooyoung. But he understood a little too much. 

He grabbed Wooyoung’s wrist gently, pulling it away from his mouth slowly. He held the hand tightly as Wooyoung continued to stare in horror.

“Don’t,” He whispered hoarsely.

“What are you afraid of, Wooyoung?” Yeosang asked quietly, expression pinching.

For a moment, he was sure Wooyoung wouldn’t answer, but he swallowed thickly, eyes glancing down and then back up fearfully.

“You,” he whispered, not taking Yeosang by surprise in the least.

“Why are you afraid of me?” Yeosang guided, like a question and answer booklet.

Wooyoung’s eyes flickered down again. “You…know too much.”

“Are you lying about something?”

“Why does it  _ matter? _ ” Wooyoung snapped, looking back up with a weak fire in his eyes. “Why does any of it matter? Just let me go-“

“Do you matter?” Yeosang murmured thickly. His chest felt tight… jumbled and aching in the worst way.

Wooyoung paused, glaring at Yeosang. “Depends on who you ask,” he muttered bitterly.

“No, it doesn’t,” Yeosang said firmly, tugging Wooyoung closer until they stood chest to chest, Wooyoung stiffening but not pulling away. “Because it doesn’t matter what anyone thinks of you or how they treat you… you will  _ always _ matter, Wooyoung. That doesn’t change for anything.” 

Wooyoung could have either been terrified or relieved. Yeosang honestly couldn’t tell which.

“Did you want to do it?” Yeosang whispered lowly, holding Wooyoung’s gaze sternly. “This matters because  _ you _ matter, Wooyoung. The things you want  _ matter.” _

It didn’t matter how many times Yeosang said it, if Wooyoung didn’t believe it.

But he hadn’t torn himself away. He hadn’t looked away. He was still staring at Yeosang, as if his mind was slowly… slowly formulating an answer.

Yeosang waited patiently, the cool light of the moon a comforting presence around them. At least, to Yeosang it was.

“You… already know the answer,” Wooyoung muttered stubbornly.

“So say it,” Yeosang urged, pressing closer slowly.

“ _ Yes, _ ” Wooyoung hissed, his expression of someone expecting to be struck. “Are you happy now? Are you satisfied now that you made me say it-“

He stuttered to a halt when Yeosang placed a gentle hand against his cheek, lips slamming closed as if Yeosang might somehow find a way to slap him from this position.

“Do you want me to kiss you?” he murmured.

Wooyoung was… an odd presence to Yeosang. One full of so much turmoil and life… But one that had undeniably drawn him in from the first moment Yeosang saw.

At what point in their short acquaintance had all this developed? Yeosang couldn’t be sure. At no point had he looked at Wooyoung and noticed any change in how he looked at Yeosang. And Yeosang couldn’t pinpoint a single moment where he realized that he… wouldn’t mind Wooyoung staying with them.

With him.

“It doesn’t matter,” Wooyoung managed weakly, eyes angry in a way that looked prepared to cry.

“Why doesn’t it matter?” Yeosang whispered, frowning gently as his heart twisted.

How long would Wooyoung torture himself? How long until he could admit to wanting something without needing to fight himself and others?

Wooyoung glared up at him, eyes shimmering. “Because even if I said yes, it would never go anywhere.”

“By whose decision?” Yeosang challenged.

“Mine,” Wooyoung hissed, expression cracking. He made a movement away from Yeosang, but drifted back towards him without Yeosang moving. “I’m not going to taunt myself with this when it has nowhere to go.”

Yeosang frowned, pain leaving for a moment of utter confusion. “It has an eternity to go, Wooyoung.”

Wooyoung stared at him for a moment, speechless, before sighing roughly and shoving Yeosang away, shaking his head angrily. “Don’t act as if someone like you would ever spend eternity with someone like me.”

Yeosang snatched Wooyoung’s wrist before the other could even think of moving, his lips parted in a hurt, horrified confusion. “There’s nothing wrong with you, Wooyoung,” he snapped. “And don’t say that like I’m somehow better than you.”

“You aren’t going around destroying everything you’ve touched,” Wooyoung snapped.

“That doesn’t make you a bad person,” he pressed, expression dropping.

“Doesn’t it?” Wooyoung sneered.

“Does it make Hongjoong or Seonghwa irredeemable when they lose control?” Yeosang demanded angrily.

“Hongjoong isn’t tearing this godforsaken ship apart!”

“Isn’t he?” Yeosang snapped, stepping forward angrily. “Hongjoong lost control and we floated on nothing but drift wood for four days before we made it to land,” he snapped, making Wooyoung’s expression drop.

If Wooyoung wanted to blame himself, he would learn just how unextraordinary he was.

“Seonghwa lost control, and threw half of us into the sea,” he snapped, fists clenching. “San nearly drowned like you did.”

Wooyoung flinched.

“The one time Yunho lost control- half of us were laying around with half our skin burnt off for weeks! Mingi nearly sent an earth spire through the ship! San nearly wiped out an entire village with a rockslide! I almost sunk this ship on a full moon where I lost control of the tides!”

Wooyoung looked as if he knew Yeosang was right. But was denying it every step of the way.

“We  _ all _ lose control. It’s our  _ nature _ to be children of uncontrollable elements. These don’t make us bad people,” he snapped angrily, heart twisting. “Nothing you’ve done makes you a bad person. You deserve to be happy, Wooyoung- whether you recognize that or not.”

Wooyoung looked… very afraid.

Yeosang felt the rising anger fade into an ache that went bone deep. “Do what you  _ want _ , Wooyoung,” he begged. “Stop hurting yourself like it’s something you deserve. Just let yourself be  _ happy. _ ”

Yeosang took his hand slowly.

Wooyoung did not pull away. He stared at Yeosang, mouth open but no words coming out as his eyes reflected the moonlight like two stars shining in the distance.

“Do what is going to make you happy,” Yeosang whispered pleadingly. “Even our lives are too short to spend them so darkly.”

Wooyoung swallowed, shaking his head slowly, like he was ready to deny it all over again, but he stopped after only a moment.

Wooyoung… was someone that Yeosang wanted to be happy. In a different way than he wanted the others to be happy. The others were already happy.

Yeosang wanted… to  _ give _ Wooyoung happiness. To be able to be a reason that he was happy. To let him stay happy… for a long time.

He wanted Wooyoung to be happy with them.

“I would like it,” Yeosang murmured, glancing away for only a brief moment where his skin heated. “If…you kissed me.” Yeosang wasn’t nervous. But it was… Well, it was something he had never done before.

There had been one Child of Flowers, long, long ago… but Yeosang could barely even remember their face.

He could see Wooyoung’s face, though. His terrified, pale face that still looked as if kissing Yeosang would tear something between them irreparably.

Yeosang was holding one of Wooyoung’s wrists. His other hand came and rested against Wooyoung’s hip, squeezing comfortingly, making Wooyoung shiver. “I won’t take this from you,” he promised in a whisper. “But… do whatever is going to make you happy.”

Wooyoung jerked forward a centimeter before drawing back, his expression dancing between fear and something almost hopeful… It was a heartbreaking dance to watch, but Yeosang waited patiently.

Wooyoung’s arm suddenly leapt up and grabbed Yeosang’s bicep, holding it tightly- but not enough to hurt. Enough, though, that Yeosang knew that he was dangerously close to breaking.

His hand trailed up Wooyoung’s arm gently, until it rested at his jaw carefully, cupping his jaw with feather-light touches.

He smiled quietly, watching Wooyoung’s eyes widen. “I want you to be happy, Wooyoung.”

There was a brief moment where Wooyoung looked as if Yeosang had slapped him across the face.

And then the grip on his arm was tightening as Wooyoung leaned in the small distance between them.

Before their lips ever touched, Wooyoung’s other hand leapt up to grab at Yeosang’s shoulder, as if he was trying not to get swept away-

As if it was the first time all over again, Wooyoung pressed forward hard and fast, as if he was being given only seconds to have what he wanted-

Yeosang slowed them- physically holding Wooyoung back from pressing forward, and keeping his lips shut tight until Wooyoung pulled away, expression falling at what might be seen as a rejection-

Yeosang caught the back of his head, tangling his fingers in the strands there gently as he rested their heads together.

Wooyoung stared at him, startled and scared. Yeosang smiled quietly, his heart expanding in his chest.

“I want to kiss you,” he murmured, stroking fingers through Wooyoung’s hair gently, “not have you eat me.” He chuckled gently when Wooyoung looked annoyed at the teasing. “I’m not going anywhere,” he promised quietly. “You don’t have to rush.”

Wooyoung swallowed, but nodded stiffly, looking like he was turning to stone.

Yeosang guided their lips back together this time.

Properly.

It was… shocking how quickly Wooyoung went from being made of marble to feeling like wet sand in Yeosang’s grasp. His stiff posture fell as Yeosang covered his lips with his own, smiling gently as Wooyoung pressed forward slowly until their bodies pressed together as well.

When Yeosang licked slowly at Wooyoung’s lips, they parted immediately.

Yeosang cracked his eyes open, a warmth bubbling in his chest, and found Wooyoung’s eyes shut loosely, fluttering slightly when Yeosang deepened the kiss, letting his eyes fall shut as Wooyoung made a quiet noise- fisting Yeosang’s shirt in a trembling hand.

When it wasn’t for the purpose of keeping him from fading, Wooyoung kissed very… gently. As if every sensation and movement were new to him.

However, given how little Love had been exposed… it probably was.

It hurt to think about. 

Yeosang tightened his grip on Wooyoung’s hair gently to guide his head back slightly, enough to give him better access as Wooyoung looped his arm slowly around Yeosang’s back, dragging him closer-

Wooyoung kissed him as if Yeosang were a one-time experience that he needed to savor while he could.

And Yeosang didn’t know how to convince him that that was the farthest thing from the truth.

Wooyoung barely moved, as if afraid that shifting too much would shatter something, though his fist remained tight in Yeosang’s shirt. Yeosang loosened his hold on Wooyoung until it was barely a caress against his skin, light enough to tickle.

Wooyoung seized slightly when Yeosang ran a soothing hand down his stiff neck, but it immediately melted into a quiet sigh as he melted against Yeosang, knees buckling for a brief moment before righting himself quickly-

Yeosang placed a firm arm around his waist, laughing quietly into the kiss-

Wooyoung’s hands suddenly rose to cup Yeosang’s face, rising up on the balls of his feet as he changed the speed of the kiss, tongue tangling slowly with Yeosang’s.

He smiled, letting Wooyoung lead the kiss and slowly bend Yeosang backwards as he deepened it-

Wooyoung…

It  _ felt _ different. Different than anything Yeosang ever expected it to feel like. Wooyoung wasn’t pushing and shoving his way around, but every micro-movement felt amplified a million times over, making Yeosang shiver when Wooyoung dragged his lips slowly over his.

Wooyoung’s hands began to wander, running down Yeosang’s chest slowly and resting at his waist for a moment-

Yeosang felt Wooyoung’s first tear hit his cheek and tightened his hold on him comfortingly.

The only change was the irregular breaths passing between Wooyoung’s lips as he continued to press forward, slow and heated and deep as his eyes shut tighter, like it might stop the tears.

Yeosang tasted salt on his lips as his heart wrenched in his chest. He ran a gentle hand across the small of Wooyoung’s back- a slow, warm drag that made a choked whimper break off in the other’s throat- a breathy sob catching as he stopped kissing for just a moment before diving back into Yeosang, like he was afraid of what was happening to him.

Yeosang pulled back, hand brushing over Wooyoung’s cheek to clear the tears. “Calm down,” he whispered hoarsely as Wooyoung tried to turn away.

He gently guided his face back to look at him, but Wooyoung kept his eyes shut tight, but still not enough to stop the tears from squeezing out and slowly running down his cheeks.

“It’s okay,” Yeosang murmured thickly, stroking through his hair comfortingly, rubbing small circles in his hip as Wooyoung shook his head sharply, sucking in stuttering breaths. “Whatever it is, it’s okay, Wooyoung…”

He shook his head harder, letting it tip forward until it rested in the curve of Yeosang’s neck.

Yeosang immediately raised his arms, hugging him tightly as Wooyoung full-body shuddered as he tried to regulate his breathing, shaking breaths ending in sobs as he pressed closer.

“Why?” Yeosang murmured in his hair, chest aching as he pressed his lips gently to his temple. “What’s wrong? Why are you crying, Wooyoung?”

He simply shook his head sharply, fisting Yeosang’s shirt tight enough to tear the thin fabric. Yeosang stared over his shoulder, methodically petting his hair gently.

Yunho and San were both gone… Yeosang hadn’t even noticed them leave.

“What happened?” Yeosang whispered into his hair. “Was it…bad?” he questioned gently. “Was it too much?”

Despite how easily Wooyoung seemed to think Yeosang could read him… Wooyoung was…like trying to read a book in a mirror. It was doable, but every now and then, you stared at a word and tried to read it as if it were the right way around. Sometimes, his ‘no’s looked like ‘yes’s, even if it was usually clear what his answers really meant.

But Yeosang… Yeosang was almost a little afraid of his ability to read people.

Because everyone acted as if it was infallible. But Yeosang kept waiting for the day he assumed that the person was feeling one way… and being completely wrong. He was scared of making an assumption and messing up.

Of pushing when he should have stepped away.

Of stepping away when he should have pushed.

Wooyoung was one of the more blatant people Yeosang had ever met- but Yeosang was half holding his breath, waiting for himself to misread him and make the ultimate mistake.

Yeosang didn’t think that this reaction was a bad one. Perhaps it was overwhelming, but he didn’t think anything was wrong.

But the knot of fear in his stomach whispered that he had overstepped, that something had gone wrong, that Wooyoung regretted it-

But Wooyoung sucked in a choking breath, shaking his head weakly, audibly trying to suppress the quiet, gasping cries in Yeosang’s neck.

“N-No,” he managed around his tight throat, the words coming out garbled around the tears. “No, it- it felt-“

A broken sob tore itself from Wooyoung’s chest as he ducked his head lower, almost trying to burrow into Yeosang like he might be able to hide away as his walls slowly broke down-

His knees buckled again, but Yeosang let them both sink until they knelt on the ground, Wooyoung doubled over with the force of the sobs that grew more audible the longer Yeosang held him.

Wooyoung’s head hung between his shoulders, barely keeping himself up by the fists in Yeosang’s shirt as desperate tears dripped onto their knees-

Yeosang held his breath for as long as he could before he let out his own shaking breath.

He brought his hand between them, reaching under Wooyoung to place cool fingers against the warm skin of his forehead.

He closed his eyes, being very careful not to overexert himself.

“Calm yourself,” He whispered, feeling like ice water was washing through his veins. His heart wrenched when Wooyoung choked on a breath, falling quiet with only his labored breathing to say that anything was wrong.

Wooyoung slumped forward slightly, Yeosang supporting him by his shoulders and bringing him closer to rest against his shoulder again, embracing him firmly.

“D-Don’t do tha’,” Wooyoung slurred, sounding worn and tired. “You’re gonna… hur’ yourself…”

“It wasn’t nearly as much as I did before,” Yeosang assured him, lifting his eyes to stare at the sky to keep back the tears that threatened to fall. He’d only calmed Wooyoung to stop his sobs. Not nearly enough to harm himself. 

Wooyoung was vibrant… but so pitiable.

“Was it too much?” he whispered, a slow hand running up and down Wooyoung’s spine.

There was a short pause before he shook his head slowly. “No…” he murmured, curling up slightly against Yeosang. “No, it… i’ was… was good,” he whispered, like nothing terrified him more.

“Overwhelming?” he asked gently.

Yeosang had never had to treat someone the way he treated Wooyoung. As something so fragile, but so powerful… Truly, a testament to his two warring sides, he was made of back-and-forths… of opposites and contradictions…

He was stunning.

Wooyoung audible swallowed. “A… little-“ He stiffened, a rough shiver running through him as his breath caught-

Yeosang loosened his hold in case he needed to back away, but Wooyoung slumped back against him, breathing heavily.

“It… Love is… it’s loud,” he whispered hoarsely, wincing. “It- It hurts, but you… you-“

Another shiver, and Yeosang hushed him quietly, tugging him closer. Yeosang always hated feeling useless. But Wooyoung was probably someone that he could be the most useful to.

“The… stupid Love,” he managed, voice pinched, “won’t… stop. But you… you felt… good,” he whispered tiredly.

Even if it didn’t make much sense… it made enough sense.

Yeosang blinked rapidly, lips trembling as he nodded slowly. “I see,” he croaked, fighting the stinging in his eyes-

It hurt.

It hurt because Wooyoung could be so… so happy if his elements would just stop waging war against him.

Yeosang was torn between whispering that Love being there was a good thing. But if it was hurting Wooyoung, if it was forcing him to fear having what he wanted… Yeosang almost wanted to strangle it.

For the first time, he wished Wooyoung could leave his elements behind. Just for a moment… just for a single, cursed moment of peace that Yeosang could only give sorry mockeries of.

“I’m so… tired,” Wooyoung hissed, sounding on the verge of crying again, fists clenching in his lap. “I’m so  _ tired _ of feeling like this, Yeosang-“

“I know.”

“I just- Every moment I think it’s better-“

“I know…”

“It just never  _ stops, _ ” He hissed brokenly. “It’s always so loud- Even when it’s quieter-“

Yeosang’s fingertips dug into his back as he clenched his eyes shut, expression twisting. “I know,” he whispered, voice breaking. “I’m sorry, Wooyoung- I… I’m trying to- to help-“

“It’s not your job to fix me,” he murmured tiredly, body sagging against him as his fists shook.

“No… but I want to,” Yeosang whispered tightly. “Not to fix you- You aren’t broken, Wooyoung. But I want to help you. I want to help you so badly-“

Wooyoung jerked weakly, a rough shiver wracking his body for a moment before he fell limp again, breaths hissing painfully-

“You make it so much worse,” Wooyoung whispered harshly, shaking breaths falling against Yeosang’s neck as he fisted the hem of his shirt. “Love- you make it so much louder, you make it hurt-“

That… hurt in ways Yeosang didn’t quite expect it to.

Not sharp or piercing… but dull and bruising. Like a board slamming into his stomach.

He knew that they all made Love act up more than War. That was just the nature of their presence- they all loved each other. They had traveled together for centuries- Love was more abundant here than anywhere on this earth.

But… it was perhaps the first time that Yeosang felt guilt for it. Personal guilt. Knowing that with each affection he gave Wooyoung, he was causing him pain.

The same pain Yeosang wanted so desperately to give him a moment’s respite from.

He swallowed thickly, beginning to loosen his hold on Wooyoung. “I’m sor-“ 

Wooyoung reaffirmed his grip, tugging Yeosang closer again, holding him there. Yeosang’s eyes widened as Wooyoung tucked his face deeper into his neck, lips brushing his pulse point.

“Don’t,” Wooyoung begged in a desperate whisper.

Yeosang wished he could see his face. Could be given some sort of hint as to what he wanted. For the first time, Yeosang stared at Wooyoung and was at a complete loss for what he was feeling.

He did not like how powerless that made him feel.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” Yeosang murmured. “I- You can tell me to leave,” he assured him quietly, heart growing heavy. “It’s not wrong for you to want some distance, especially if it hurt-“

Wooyoung sighed shakily, body tensing like he was preparing to tear himself away, but he only shifted closer, bent at an odd angle over their knees.

Yeosang shifted slowly, spreading his kneeling knees to allow space-

Wooyoung immediately filled in, kneeling between his legs until their chests pressed together- his body unnaturally warm, but not to a concerning level.

Yeosang shivered slightly at the sudden warmth in the cool night, but allowed the warm line of body heat to wrap around him-

“You- You make it hurt so b-badly,” Wooyoung hissed weakly, body beginning to tremble. “You make it flare up like fire- It  _ burns, _ Yeosang-“

He flinched, heart shattering as he tried to find what to say-

Wooyoung said he was hurting him, but wouldn’t let him move away. He was hurting him- but Yeosang couldn’t get away to lessen it-

“But it…” Wooyoung took a shaking breath, shaking his head helplessly. “It- It’s  _ good,” _ he hissed forcefully, sounding close to breaking down again. “You-  _ You’re _ good. You…  _ help. _ I-I don’t know- I can’t explain it, I-“ He coughed roughly. “It  _ hurts _ … but it- it  _ helps _ having you- You’re  _ calming- _ “

The pieces suddenly snapped into place like the final gear on a lock, all the little, unintelligible clues finally forcing Yeosang’s eyes wide open-

Some of the panic in his heart calmed as his expression softened with understanding.

His body relaxed slightly, no longer so blind. “I see,” he whispered. “So… I make your elements flare up. But… I make  _ you _ calm.”

Wooyoung hadn’t seemed to catch on, nodding quickly. “I- I don’t understand either-“

“I do understand…”

Wooyoung froze, pulling back weakly enough to frown at Yeosang-

His heart broke a little further at the tears clinging to his lashes, glinting like stars in the moonlight.

Instinctively, Yeosang reached up, brushing them away gently, making Wooyoung blink slowly.

“What- What do you understand?” he croaked quietly, eyes shining with the potential of tears.

Yeosang felt like he was back on solid ground, holding Wooyoung’s gaze. “I make Love flare up,” he explained quietly, brushing his messy bangs away from his slightly damp forehead. “But I calm  _ you. _ I calm  _ Wooyoung. _ ”

They and their elements were not one in the same. Sometimes, Yeosang’s heart felt calm, and it had nothing to do with the moon. 

Love flared. But  _ Wooyoung’s _ heart took comfort. 

Confusion flickered before something cleared. “I- I guess… that is… a good description,” he murmured, lowering his eyes to stare at the ground.

Yeosang kept stroking fingers through his hair gently. “I’m sorry,” he whispered.

His eyes flickered back up, all the anger and defensiveness cleared away. “For what?”

“For hurting you,” he whispered, tucking his hair back, scanning his pale, blotchy face. “Even if… it’s okay.”

It was an unresolvable situation until Wooyoung learned to handle his power.

“It’s… better,” Wooyoung said absently, fingernail scratching at the fabric of his pants idly. “Everything… It still creates pain, but… it’s better. Than it was.”

Yeosang couldn’t help but smile sadly, cupping Wooyoung’s cheek gently. “You’re better than you were,” he assured him quietly.

Wooyoung looked away, skin heating. “What…” He coughed quietly, rolling his lips slowly. “Why… did you want to do it?”

“Do what?” he prompted curiously.

“Kiss me.” He lifted his head quickly, like he might lose his nerve as he stared at Yeosang. “I barely know why I wanted to do it- Why… Why did you-“

“Because you’re you,” Yeosang responded immediately. The rough wood was beginning to dig into his knees, but he barely noticed. “There’s no special reason.”

“Why did you want to kiss me?” he pressed, brows pulling down as he swallowed thickly. “You never said anything-“

“I never needed to say anything,” Yeosang responded smoothly, shaking his head. “It was just a fact I was aware of. It wasn’t something pressing enough to say.” 

“So you didn’t actually want to,” Wooyoung said, eyes turning glassy as his lips thinned. “You were just indifferent to it.”

Yeosang held his gaze for a tense moment. “That’s not what I said,” he murmured calmly. “And you know it.”

Wooyoung dropped his gaze, jaw tightening-

Yeosang lifted his head with a delicate finger beneath his chin, expression gentle. “You’re special, Wooyoung,” he murmured carefully. “You’re vibrant, and you have so much life inside of you…” He searched Wooyoung’s eyes that were open and scared again. “I want you to be happy… I want to you to be so happy, Wooyoung-“

Wooyoung dropped his eyes, gritting his teeth even if his head remained raised, eyes shimmering-

“And if that means standing beside you as a support that you need, I’m willing to be that,” he whispered. “And if that means… kissing you because  _ you _ want to… then I’m willing to do that.”

“’Willing,’” Wooyoung muttered, lifting dark eyes to Yeosang’s. “Not ‘wanting.’”

Yeosang was almost tempted to shake the other god in his arms.

Instead, he stared at him, heartbroken beyond words for a moment, before taking Wooyoung’s face between his hands and pressing their lips back together.

Wooyoung’s hand caught Yeosang’s wrist gently, but didn’t pull it away as he made a quiet noise of surprise in the back of his throat, even as he relaxed into the kiss that Yeosang ended much sooner than he wanted to.

Wooyoung was Love… And Yeosang could feel it permeating his skin every time he touched him.

“You are precious,” Yeosang whispered, Wooyoung not opening his eyes, clenching them shut. “You’re brilliant, Wooyoung. But I’m not… selfish enough to have real desires like that.”

Wooyoung opened his eyes, something betrayed in them. “What does that mean?” he asked carefully, tensing.

“It means… that…” Yeosang sighed, searching for the words. “It means that… the Moon isn’t… powerful, Wooyoung. It isn’t pervasive or strong willed… It’s stubborn, it’s changing, it’s… it’s the embodiment of calm and complacency. It doesn’t have strong desires like that. It isn’t selfish enough to want you that way… when it’s possible that you could want me in a different way.”

“Is that selfish?” he demanded quietly, eyes watering. “To want someone, even if you don’t know if they want you the same way?”

“Not… inherently,” Yeosang said carefully, stroking Wooyoung’s cheek carefully. “But my nature won’t let me want something like that. Not in the fiery way you do. Not with the precision that you know what you want.”

“So… you don’t know what you want.”

Yeosang lips twitched sadly, brushing his thumbs across the swell of Wooyoung’s face, who stared at him, withdrawn but wanting to understand.

Yeosang wasn’t sure if he was capable of understanding. In the same way Yeosang couldn’t understand Wooyoung’s nature completely.

“I know what I want,” he whispered regretfully, tucking his hair back yet again. “I want you to be happy. I want you to always be happy and without pain, Wooyoung. That’s what I’ve always wanted for you.”

Wooyoung’s jaw tensed as his breath caught.

“But… in wanting you to be happy… I can’t automatically want you in one way or another,” he tried to explain quietly. “Because if I want to only be your support… what if you wanted me another way? If I wanted you… in another way,” he said carefully, “what if you only wanted me to be a companion? How could you be happy then?”

“That’s stupid,” Wooyoung hissed, tears welling even as he glared.

“I can’t help that part of my nature,” Yeosang said regretfully, shrugging apologetically.

Yeosang was almost dangerously balanced at times. It could take days to get him to make a choice- his calmness within him was so willing to go with any option.

If they stopped at this port? If they kept sailing another week? He could make do with either.

Rooming alone or with someone? He could make either work.

Didn’t he want to go back to that one port he knew? He would be fine with going or staying.

Did he want Wooyoung as a companion… or something more?

There were infinite merits to both. Both were equally rewarding, and both were desirable. But above those merits and rewards… he wanted him to be happy.

_ That _ was a decision strong enough to be made. 

He wanted Wooyoung to be happy. The method by which he was happy was the same to Yeosang, either way.

“It’s not indifference, Wooyoung,” he assured him. “And it’s not waiting to be manipulated into a choice. It’s… It’s knowing that regardless of which ended up happening… I would be happy, knowing that you were.”

Wooyoung’s tense expression turned into a bitter glare as the welling tears finally spilled over, his hand striking Yeosang weakly in the chest.

“Why are you so  _ selfless?” _ he hissed angrily. “Why- Why do you have to make me feel like- like-“ His eyes searched Yeosang, looking for some answer he didn’t find.

More tears flowed over, and the anger slowly started cracking into desperation.

Wooyoung looked ready to either strike Yeosang or kiss him again.

Yeosang was staring at Wooyoung, though. Lost for a moment as his face contorted into yet another expression- bouncing between moods like a rubber ball, almost incomprehensibly fast. One minutes, they were okay, and the next he was angry again… His eyes were dark with anger but shining in pitiable tears that shone like diamonds… 

“You’re breathtaking…” he breathed.

Wooyoung’s anger stuttered and flickered, washing away as he stared at Yeosang as he had just slapped him.

So shocked… at such a simple compliment.

Yeosang felt something well up inside of him. And it wasn’t desire… nor was it fondness…

It was something protective.

Something responding to the utter shock Wooyoung held in eyes that were somehow so innocent… so ignorant to any sort of kind words… 

“Everything about you…” Yeosang swallowed thickly as Wooyoung continued to stare in blatant shock. “Every emotion and word… is beautiful…”

Wooyoung didn’t look like he was breathing. As if he was still trying to process what had fallen from Yeosang’s lips.

Wooyoung’s body jerked forward barely before he pulled back, eyes flickering around Yeosang’s face as yet another tear streaked down his cheek. “C-Can I?” he asked brokenly, looking moments from cracking through the delicate ice he stood on.

Yeosang nodded without hesitation, heart threatening to break from his chest when Wooyoung surged forward- more insistent and desperate this time than the others, but not crossing the line from gentle.

Yeosang closed his eyes, holding onto Wooyoung tightly.

It might take a million years for Wooyoung to truly grasp and understand what Yeosang felt for him.

Yeosang was willing to wait the centuries for him to figure it out.

~~~~~~~~

Yeosang… was different.

The constant waves of buzzing that traveled up Wooyoung’s spine were sharp and fast whenever he was close- speaking and brushing and smiling.

The moment their lips touched, they became nearly unbearable.

And even as Wooyoung’s body was wracked with pain, he felt a calm in his chest that made it possible to forget the pain was happening.

Kissing Yeosang…. 

Wooyoung had experienced multitudes of love on this ship. From every crew member, in every way… he had sat here and felt their Love wash over him. 

Kissing Yeosang felt like the purest, most direct form of Love being shot into Wooyoung’s veins. 

He thought he had been drowning in Love before. But he had been drowning in  _ other _ people’s love. 

Now he was drowning in  _ Yeosang’s _ . 

In his  _ own _ . 

Kissing Yeosang like this- without the fear that came with the first time- felt like being submerged in a cool bath after running thousands of miles.

Like laying in a sprinkling of cold rain after surviving through a drought.

It was relief. A gentle, coaxing sensation that gave Wooyoung a peace the likes of which he had never known.

It was also the most earth-shattering storm that Wooyoung had ever felt. As if every part of him was trying to tear itself apart and slam back together.

His heart was beating out of his chest that was aching so deeply, he was afraid for a moment.

The storm was… a comfort. A statement. A piece of proof.

Yeosang was  _ good _ . He was gentle and kind and understanding and knew everything he needed to…

Wooyoung was not those things.

Wooyoung was scarred and violent and angry and bitter compared to him. He was stumbling and childish and lost at every turn. He was-

_ Breathtaking. _

Wooyoung wanted to call him a liar. He wanted to scoff and walk away. He wanted to tell Yeosang to stop trying to make him feel better. Tell him that he was going blind.

But the way he looked at him… 

Wooyoung didn't need the surge of buzzing up his spine to tell him what that was.

It was… It was impossible to doubt Yeosang when he spoke. It was impossible to look at him and think him lying.

His voice, his eyes, his countenance, his entire posture and body language…

Wooyoung had no choice but to believe him, even if he didn’t understand what it was Yeosang saw in him.

But it made something well in his chest. Something that… was almost as painful as Love. But almost as soothing as Yeosang.

Yeosang made Wooyoung feel like he was being torn in two- between Wooyoung and his elements.

It was the best and worst feeling.

Because for the first time, Wooyoung was feeling a real, clear distinction between the two. He was in pain, he was the most grounded he had ever been. He felt like he could breathe. That he could relax.

_ I want you to be so happy. _

It was… the purest sort of wish you could have for someone.

And Yeosang wished it for him.

And he expected Wooyoung to somehow have conflictions about what he wanted to be with Yeosang?

Wooyoung kissed Yeosang the final time… because he didn’t know what else to do. Like the first time, there was just such a well of emotions, Wooyoung felt like it was the only way to get them out.

He felt something terrifying. Something… something like love. Not Love.

And that terrified Wooyoung. In all his issues and mistakes and failures… feeling this way scared him.

Because he was better, yes.

But he was still the person who destroyed the ship, who nearly killed Hongjoong and Seonghwa, who continually snapped at those who only tried to help him… who struck Yeosang.

Who struck someone… who had only ever been the one thing Wooyoung never knew he needed.

Yeosang was good in all the ways it was possible to be good.

How long until Wooyoung lashed out again, wrongly? How long before War reappeared, and Wooyoung hurt someone who had never done a thing to deserve it…

War cared nothing for innocence.

But War and Love had nothing to do with the utter sickness in his stomach at the thought that was permanently seared into his mind.

What right did he have to love Yeosang, given everything he had done?

_ You’re breathtaking. _

Yeosang truly believed it. After everything Wooyoung had done-

Yeosang ran gentle, soothing fingers through Wooyoung’s hair as he cried yet again like an idiotic child-

It only made his tears fall harder as the knot in his chest slowly loosened, making it feel like he could breathe finally-

He wanted… wanted…

Wanted this.

Wanted Yeosang.

Wanted the emotions and sensations and everything else came with Yeosang.

Wooyoung didn’t know  _ why _ these emotions and sensations came. But they did, and he wanted them. 

Even as he cried in terror that shook him like nothing ever had… he wanted it. Even as he felt wave after wave of pins and needles, he kept hanging on, kept pushing deeper-

It got easier to ignore the pain the deeper he sank into Yeosang.

He felt like he was floating. Not unlike the sensation of beginning to lose himself, but…he felt in complete control.

Yeosang’s every touch was gentle, caressing, soothing, wanting-

Wooyoung choked on tears until he could no longer kiss, practically sobbing against Yeosang’s lips, but not wanting to let go.

For the countless time, Yeosang slowed their kiss, breaking his lips away slowly and tugging Wooyoung down to his chest, arms locking around him.

There was no quieting them this time, though. The sensation of pins and needles and Yeosang and moonlight and cool, addicting relief-

Wooyoung sobbed into his chest, and Yeosang didn’t calm him this time, aside from the gentle hand massaging his back comfortingly and the hand stroking through his hair as he murmured quiet nothings that Wooyoung couldn’t hear above his cries.

He was so afraid. Wooyoung wasn’t used to caring enough to be scared.

Yeosang embraced him hard enough to hurt, but Wooyoung still begged him to hold him tighter.

Wooyoung didn’t need to be grounded… this wasn’t to ground him. It was comfort. Plain and simple… just an attempt to comfort someone falling apart.

There were so many things that Wooyoung wanted that he was too afraid to say.

“You’re okay,” He heard Yeosang whisper soothingly, feeling the warm droplets dripping onto his neck from Yeosang’s eyes. “It’ll be okay… You have so much ahead of you, Wooyoung… You’ve come so far, you can’t even realize…”

It…

It made Wooyoung feel… hope. Which was something he had been too afraid to feel.

Yeosang made Wooyoung  _ want. _

It made him want peace, control, happiness… things he had been so certain were unobtainable.

He didn’t know if Yeosang actually helped him or not. But Wooyoung eventually drifted. Not quite sleeping, but existing in a warm, black void that gave him a brief moment of being unable to think or feel.

It was warm there. It was… safe there.

Even as he floated… he could still feel Yeosang’s arms around him. Exhausted and worn out like a piece of leather that had been worked too much… Wooyoung didn’t sleep.

But for once… he was genuinely at peace.

~~~~~~~~~

Hongjoong stepped off of the row boat onto the deck, staring at the bow of the ship.

Yeosang and Wooyoung were laying on the deck, a blanket thrown over them both as their limbs tangled together with Wooyoung’s body practically laying on top of Yeosang.

His head rested on Yeosang’s chest- both of their faces the kind of peaceful you could only really get by sleeping deep enough.

Wooyoung’s fingers were curled in the front of Yeosang’s shirt, while Yeosang’s arms looped around Wooyoung.

“Yeah,” San whispered behind him, his expression slightly apprehensive but fond. “They’ve been like that all night. Yunho and I gave them some space after their discussion turned a bit more… intimate.”

He grimaced slightly but grinned as Hongjoong’s eyebrows shot up.

“We didn’t hear the whole thing,” Yunho told him, looking equal parts saddened and relieved. “But they got a little heated, but… I think Yeosang got through to him about some things.”

Seonghwa stood beside him, gazing at them in mutes amazement. “Did they…?”

“Wooyoung was upset about everything that happened,” San explained. “They eventually kissed, and Wooyoung… um, broke down a bit.” He casted a pitiful glance at the two sleeping. “We gave them some space after that, but it seems like there were a couple more breakdowns, and… you know, more kissing.”

“About what?” Hongjoong demanded, though keeping his voice down for the two who were still sleeping even in broad daylight.

“Some of Wooyoung’s tendencies,” Yunho said, sitting on the edge of the rail. “The things he feels guilty about… I think it was mainly Yeosang reassuring Wooyoung that his mistakes aren’t his executioner.”

Hongjoong…

Hongjoong didn’t know what to do with the two of them. But at least he knew Seonghwa had been right.

He wasn’t… apprehensive. But he was almost more concerned for Wooyoung than Yeosang. He couldn’t quite scold them, considering his own choices, but…

He stared at the two of them sleeping with each other.

And his blood seemed to settle quietly in his veins as his expression softened.

It was… probably the most peaceful that Hongjoong had ever seen Wooyoung. Sleeping quietly, lips parted in quiet breaths as the two of them clung to each other, even in sleep.

Yeosang holding him almost protectively…

“Isn’t that a familiar sight?” Seonghwa murmured, just meant for Hongjoong as he stepped up beside him, a hand placed on the small of his back.

Seonghwa and Hongjoong didn’t sleep. But they did spend the night hours wrapped around each other- closer or farther away depending on the day.

Hongjoong could think of a million nights where he had inserted himself into Seonghwa’s embrace, just wanting to be held. Not for grounding, but just… because he could.

Seonghwa pulling him down when the distance got a little too lonely, and the two of them simply seeking the proximity of each other’s presence.

Yeosang and Wooyoung were not laying in a tight embrace of desperation.

They merely laid together.

“What did you find out?” San asked, peering around them to look Hongjoong in the face. “You’re back early.”

“We have a ship,” Seonghwa assured them, looking relieved. “It’s much smaller, but it’s better than what we have.”

“The only issue is that they want the shell of this ship as part of the payment,” Hongjoong said, crossing his arms. “Not unreasonable, but it means we’re going to have to go to the village to switch them out. Wooyoung is going to have to come on land, at least for a brief moment.”

There was a short silence, Yunho and San glancing at each other in question.

“I think he’ll be okay,” San said confidently, one corner of his mouth twitching upwards. “I think he and Yeosang might have worked something out.”

Hongjoong was torn between curious confusion and utter relief.

It made him feel useless, how little they’d been able to really help Wooyoung. But if Yeosang was the one who could give that help, Hongjoong’s job was just to support the two of them however they needed.

He remembered the moment that he realized… just how grounding Seonghwa was. Just how much more freedom he had with Seonghwa’s presence.

The relief and weightless giddiness that had taken hold of him, after centuries of struggling.

He couldn’t imagine the extent that Wooyoung was experiencing, if Yeosang was able to provide even a fraction of that to him. 

_ Stop worrying, _ he heard Seonghwa whispering in his head.

Sighing quietly, he let the concern fall from his shoulders as he straightened, smiling quietly. “I hate to wake them, but we need to discuss what is happening…”

“I’ll wake them,” Seonghwa volunteered. “Start steering us there slowly.”

He stepped up to the bow of the ship slowly, Hongjoong watching from the corner of his eye as he began to move their little broken ship.

Seonghwa crouched beside the two of them, smiling quietly as he shook Yeosang’s shoulder gently.

Both of them must have been exhausted if they were able to keep sleeping in broad daylight.

Yeosang woke, blinking in the harsh morning light, arms instinctively holding Wooyoung closer, glancing around blearily as Seonghwa’s smile grew.

Hongjoong’s own heart twinged in a bit of fondness.

Regardless of what they felt or were to each other… Hongjoong knew that there was no one better at defending someone than Yeosang.

He saw Wooyoung shift, stiffening as his legs tangled further with Yeosang’s, looping through them, as if trying to stop him from being taken away.

Seonghwa spoke quietly with Yeosang before patting his head gently and walking away, smiling knowingly at Hongjoong.

The smile itself made Hongjoong’s heart skip as he grinned back subtly.

Yeosang spoke quietly to Wooyoung inside his arms, slowly loosening them as they both say up, rubbing at their eyes. Yeosang kept talking quietly, lips twitching upward as he fixed the mess that Wooyoung’s hair was from laying on his chest.

Wooyoung didn’t immediately tear himself away… he didn’t glare around himself… he didn’t stare at the others like they were intruding…

He sat calmly, responding to whatever Yeosang was saying as he rubbed at his eyes and cheeks tiredly.

Hongjoong wondered if that was the first real sleep he had gotten? Did that mean that War and Love were subdued enough to let him rest?

Questions for later.

Yeosang smiled quietly, brushing his knuckles over Wooyoung’s cheek gently.

Wooyoung didn’t snap at him. He glanced at him- expression reserved, like he didn’t know what exactly was coming- but there was nothing angry or defensive about it.

When Yeosang began to stand, he offered a hand down to Wooyoung.

Hongjoong was taken aback when Wooyoung accepted the offering, letting Yeosang help him to his feet.

And he was even more shocked when Yeosang tugged Wooyoung straight to his chest, embracing him tightly.

He watched Wooyoung’s face drop in shock as he rested his hands on Yeosang’s back, staring over his shoulder blankly.

Hongjoong’s heart ached as Wooyoung’s shock turned to something softer, expression falling as he nodded quietly to whatever Yeosang was saying to him. His fists curled in the back of Yeosang’s shirt.

Yeosang pet Wooyoung’s hair gently, pulling away with a gentle smile.

What exactly had happened last night? Hongjoong was trying not to stare so blatantly. But the gentle, comforting actions were so familiar, it was like staring at a mirror.

Wooyoung’s face… was definitely of someone who was being loved… and didn’t think he deserved it.

Hongjoong knew the face well.

But when Yeosang asked something, eyebrow raising in question… Wooyoung looked at him with a lighter expression, responding and glancing away, like he was embarrassed-

Hongjoong might have laughed if he wasn’t smiling so hard.

Yeosang squeezed Wooyoung’s hand briefly, stepping away slowly, as if waiting for Wooyoung to either allow it or resist.

Hongjoong turned away, no longer needing to watch them. He hadn’t ever doubted it, but he  _ finally _ felt it click firmly into place in his chest.

Wooyoung was in good hands.

Things would be… okay. For all of them. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for reading!!   
> The next chapter is coming, but I had a lot of fun developing this chapter~ I hope you enjoyed it!   
> Thank you for all of the love you’ve been giving- those who comment, kudos, and just stop by to read!   
> I’ll see you next chapter!   
> I hope you have an amazing day, lovelies~~   
> -SS


	5. Comfort and Anger (The Kind That Defends)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don’t know if I’m satisfied by this chapter, but I’ve learned by now to just go with it!  
> Thank you everyone who’s been enjoying this! It really does mean so much!!  
> I’ve decided that there will be one more full chapter after this, and then a shorter epilogue, I think!  
> I hope you all enjoy this as much as I have!  
> Stay safe, and please let me know what you think!  
> -SS

Wooyoung’s hand was sweating in Yeosang’s where they stepped onto the gangplank at the tiny village port.

It was really was nothing more than a colony, really. Barely a hundred people, living in dirt huts and just doing what they needed to survive.

Most people ignored them as they stepped off their ship, Hongjoong discussing something amiably with an old man with papery skin. 

Yeosang felt Wooyoung seize nervously as they stepped onto solid ground. 

The small port wasn’t busy- only about a dozen men and women milling around, examining their small row boats and carrying baskets back and forth.

All they needed to do was get off, walk a quarter of a mile down the coastline to the smaller ship, and get on.

Wooyoung just needed to last that long.

Yeosang wasn’t worried (not really). 

Hongjoong led their little group at the front as Wooyoung’s hand slowly tightened with every step, nearly crushing Yeosang’s. 

He tried to squeeze back encouragingly. “You’re doing well,” Yeosang murmured, bumping their shoulders. “You’ve already made it so far, Wooyoung.”

He didn’t respond, face tense and slightly pale as his eyes flickered around, as if searching for something to go wrong. 

Yeosang rubbed his thumb across the back of his hand soothingly, chest tightening at the thought that Wooyoung had managed to come on land at all. 

He was doing so well. But Yeosang saved the praise for later, when Wooyoung would actually be aware enough to hear it. 

Their new, smaller ship that was in view. It seemed about half the size of their current one, but plenty large enough for just eight people. 

“It’s good and reliable,” the old man promised Hongjoong. “‘Specially if you’re only sailing with eight of you.” He glanced around at them. “Mighty small crew you’ve got?” He chuckled. 

Hongjoong smiled back warmly. “More of friends traveling than a real crew. This will be more than enough for us, thank you.” 

The man merely nodded and waved them off, smiling graciously and leaving them alone as he yelled something to a woman across the port. 

Yeosang breathed a small sigh as he left. Wooyoung was still stiff as a stone against him. 

It was always a bit stressful to be around mortals.

Gods were hidden. And while it wasn’t possible for a mortal to simply know they were gods, it was always better for them the less exposure they received. 

“We’re almost there,” Yeosang promised Wooyoung idly, keeping up a quiet commentary as they continued walking towards the ship. “We’ve just got to get on the ship. The hard part is over. You’ve made it through so much more than this. This is nothing, Woo-“

Wooyoung suddenly jerked to a stop, head snapping towards the village as his face paled in stricken horror.

Yeosang froze too, looking over quickly. “What?” he demanded at the fear in his eyes, stomach dropping-

Hongjoong was the next to turn, whipping around suddenly as it someone had struck him on the back of the head.

Seonghwa turned, expression confused and then darkening-

One by one they all whipped around, and Yeosang was utterly lost until he felt it too.

A chill ran down his spine as he gazed through the dozen or so people rushing around the port- 

A man stood among them- tall, with darkly tanned skin as he stood in a fisherman’s gear- shirtless in the sun and thick arms crossed over his chest.

A cold smile was spread across his lips.

He was looking straight at them.

Yeosang tensed, not knowing… who this man was. 

He clearly was not mortal. But Yeosang had never… never felt a presence like his. It made his skin feel jittery, like he wanted to crawl out of it-

Like his molecules were vibrating at the wrong frequency. He felt sick with it. 

Instinctively, he tugged Wooyoung behind him as if it might help as the man started approaching, long, confident strides towards them as they all slowly stepped closer together around Wooyoung, sensing that something was about to happen.

Yeosang wanted to run. 

But if a god was approaching them like this, running wouldn’t be easy. 

“Well,” he said, voice low but booming as he grinned at them. “So this is that anomaly I felt circling the last few weeks…” Black eyes flickered across them. “A caravan of eight gods…” He whistled lowly. “And so many powerful ones… and yet you don’t seem in a rush to kill each other.”

“Chaos,” Hongjoong said stiffly- voice dark with anger but carefully controlled. “You were hiding away quite well until just now.”

Yeosang’s stomach dropped into icy water.

Chaos?

Yeosang had never met a Child of Chaos in his life. He heard rumors of them, though.

Ones worse than any Child of War could ever have to their name.

“Practice makes perfect,” he chuckled, shrugging leisurely. “I can’t have hoards of puny gods coming after me, can I? No, I quite like being covert.”

“Is there a reason you’re approaching us?” Seonghwa asked, voice cold as a winter flurry. “Is there something you needed?”

“Not a particular need, no,” he assured them, never losing that dark amusement that made Yeosang’s skin crawl. “But am I just supposed to let eight gods pass through without speaking at least once? It’s been quite some time since I’ve seen a gathering so large that wasn’t amid bloodshed.”

“Times have changed,” San said stiffly, staring down his nose at the god. “Gods aren’t fighting anymore.”

“No,” Chaos sighed, looking disappointed. “I’ve been starving for a good fight between gods.” His expression fell in regret. “I’ve missed that sweet flavor, you know? It’s different among mortals, as chaotic and delicious as they are.” He licked his lips sickeningly.

Yeosang wanted to leave now, his stomach churning.

Wooyoung was as still as death behind him, as if trying to blend in with the rocky shore. Yeosang was afraid to look back at him and draw attention, but it was killing him not being able to see him, his hand shaking as Yeosang squeezed it.

Chaos made him feel… sick. Like he was about to vomit at any moment. His skin crawled, forcing him to suppress a shiver.

He didn’t like this. 

“Well, we are in a hurry,” Hongjoong said stiffly, inclining his head. “We were on our way somewhere when our ship was wrecked. We would like to be on our way-“

Chaos chuckled, shivering slightly like he was excited. “You can’t spare a moment? Why- A Child of the Sea is prime to befriend a Child of Chaos,” he assured him, eyes dragging over Hongjoong. “So much chaotic energy… so turbulent and restless…”

For a terrifying moment, Yeosang thought he might grab Hongjoong, but his eyes suddenly snapped over to Yeosang-

No. Beyond Yeosang- staring with sickening excitement at Wooyoung.

“But still nothing to the utter disorder raging inside of you, isn’t it, Child of War?” he said grinning slowly.

Wooyoung somehow stiffened further, San and Mingi closing rank on either side of him, closer and glaring as the Earth rumbled slightly.

“Such chaos,” he practically purred, eyes dragging over him slowly. “Even more than I’ve ever seen in War before… Why, I’m surprised you can even tell who you are. So lost,” he tutted. “So utterly confused-“

Yeosang stepped fully between them, expression cold. “I think you’ve said enough,” he said firmly, hand squeezing Wooyoung’s until it ached. “We’ll be on our way, if you please.”

Chaos’ eyes slowly drifted from his hungry gaze on Wooyoung to stare at Yeosang, as if calculating. 

Yeosang stopped a physical gag, swallowing as his eyes remained cold and emotionless as Chaos took a few leisurely steps towards him.

He felt Wooyoung shift behind him and squeezed his hand in warning to remain still. They couldn’t fight here. Not with so many mortals around.

Tensing, Yeosang felt Hongjoong’s hand on his wrist, and he released Wooyoung’s hold after one more tight squeeze. He heard them all shifting backwards, taking Wooyoung away from the man, but Hongjoong and Seonghwa were still solid behind Yeosang.

Chaos stopped directly before Yeosang, staring down on him as Yeosang had to tilt his head slightly to look at him.

He was not afraid of this god. Even as his blood tried to crawl out of his veins.

“A Moon Child,” he said, dark eyes flickering over Yeosang. “Ah,” he said quietly, leaning down slightly, as if realizing.

His hand reached out, pinching Yeosang’s chin between his forefinger and thumb, forcing his head up until they were only inches apart.

Yeosang’s entire body tensed, the urge to rip himself away and unleash an unholy fury on this man entirely too strong-

An energy behind him began to build slightly.

“ _ Wooyoung _ ,” he heard Hongjoong hiss sharply. “Not here. There are too many mortals to start a fight.”

“It’ll be okay,” he heard San whisper.

Yeosang prayed that this god did not cause any sort of set back with Wooyoung. He would personally make him pay if he did.

Chaos hummed in amusement, tilting his head this way and that as he examined him like a prize. The darkness in his eyes was dangerous.

Yeosang had never been looked at like he was nothing more than an object to be examined. But he remained still and stiff, lips tensed.

“A Child of the Moon,” he murmured lowly, lips twitching. “You’re just about as opposite to me as you can get, without being Order herself,” he chuckled. The grip on Yeosang’s chin tightened, making him wince as Chaos began to stand taller, forcing Yeosang forward a step.

“So  _ peaceful _ ,” he hissed, expression cold even as he smiled broadly with too many teeth. “ _ Calm… _ so helpful and  _ understanding _ … always content and never asking for more…”

Yeosang couldn’t help the weak gasp as the fingers on his chin suddenly turned to a broad hand grabbing him by the jaw in a steel grip, tearing him forward until Chaos’ eyes burned against Yeosang’s that squinted in pain-

“ _ Gods, _ the sight of you makes me want to  _ vomit.” _

Yeosang’s hands leapt up, holding onto the god’s wrist tightly, nails digging in as the pressure on his jaw turned greater, threatening to crack the bone as he bit back a whimper-

Children of the Moon were peaceful… but Yeosang had never quite thought of them as the opposite of Chaos. 

But that would explain the part of Yeosang that wanted to throw up and crawl out of his skin at this god’s presence. As if every cell in his body was vibrating.

A sudden gale swept through the port, nearly taking Yeosang’s feet out from under him as Chaos stumbled slightly at the sharp wind that tore through.

Villagers screamed- a few laughing with curious delight at the sudden wind- their boats rocking dangerously in the water.

Chaos looked beyond Yeosang, huffing in annoyance, shifting and allowing Yeosang to finally see behind him.

Seonghwa’s eyes faded from their pearly white to regular brown that was icy with anger, his hand slowly lowering to his side.

Behind his and Hongjoong’s stoic anger, San and the others crowded around Wooyoung to keep him calm.

“It would be very much in your best interest to release him,” Seonghwa muttered, voice sharper than the wind.

Chaos laughed, shaking his head as his hand carelessly jerked Yeosang around helplessly, as if he had even forgotten he was holding him. “Can even eight gods stand up to Chaos?” he demanded. “Among mortals, no less?”

Yeosang saw the waves crash into the side of the pier, splashing over the sides of boats as Hongjoong’s expression darkened.

Mortals screamed, not seeming to notice the dangerous air around their group as they all fled, grabbing baskets and nets as they raced for cover. 

“We have no interest in fighting,” Hongjoong said darkly. “But you also have no reason to harm him. Let him go.”

Chaos shrugged, jerking Yeosang roughly, making him whimper stiffly as he tug his nails harder into his skin that he barely seemed to notice.

“Can I help my nature, Sea Child?” He laughed like darkness crashing together. “It can’t be helped that I see a Moon Child and just get the urge to  _ crush _ that peace-“ His grip tightened, forcing a choked cry from Yeosang’s lips as pain raced along his bones- “You understand?” he asked cordially.

Yeosang felt like his jaw was about to snap as he grit his teeth, cursing the pain and his helplessness in this situation. His element had never been offensive. It was less than useless here.

He heard a choked off sound from Wooyoung, heart stopped in concern as he tried to turn enough to see-

“Get Wooyoung onto the ship,” Hongjoong muttered darkly under his breath, waving the rest of them on roughly.

Another roaring wind made Chaos stumble, dragging Yeosang around, but he only laughed as he stared at Seonghwa. “Do you think a Sky Child can stand to Chaos? Do you not understand that  _ I _ am the natural state of the universe?”

Yeosang cried out as he was suddenly thrust into the air, feet dangling as Chaos glared up at him, his amusement gone as Yeosang’s neck felt ready to break, eyes clenching shut.

“And that  _ this one, _ ” he growled as black swallowed his eyes. “This peaceful,  _ gentle little creature _ is nothing but an abomination to my nature,” he spat. “A natural opposition to myself that I can’t help but want to  _ tear apart _ until he’s just a  _ shell _ of that pitiful calm-”

Yeosang was too focused on keeping his grip on Chaos to try and look around.

But he heard a cry. A very familiar one.

It wasn’t a broken, weak little cry like Yeosang’s.

It felt like a soundwave of anger and rage ripping through the air, only seconds before countless arcs of red lightning struck Chaos in the chest. 

Yeosang felt the heat of them burn slightly, but Chaos was blasted backwards- his grip thankfully releasing Yeosang who dropped to the ground like a stone, immobile for a second as he panted, touching his jaw gingerly as tears pricked at the corner of his eyes-

Immediately, however, his brain registered what had just happened.

He whipped his head around in time to see Hongjoong helping the others who were trying to hold back Wooyoung-

His eyes burned a blazing red as his fingers curled into claws, teeth bared as lightning sparked from his skin.

_ “Do not touch him!”  _ he screamed in rage, a thousand voices layered on top of each other.  __

Yeosang’s blood ran cold as Wooyoung cried out again, blasting the others around him and forcing them to jerk away, Hongjoong immediately lunging forward to try and catch him again, but Wooyoung was already storming forward, expression murderous-

_ “War created Chaos,” _ he roared, the distant sound of mortals screaming, echoing.  _ “You bow to me, you worthless-“  _

Yeosang glanced behind him, seeing Chaos beginning to storm back towards them from where he had been blown back a hundred feet, tendrils of black rolling off of his skin.

Yeosang leapt to his feet as fear grabbed his heart, racing forward and jumping in front of Wooyoung.

Wooyoung jerked to a stop, loathsome eyes glaring down at Yeosang with disgust on his tongue.  _ “Move,” _ he ordered, the silent threat making Yeosang tense, but he didn’t move.

Yeosang didn’t touch him, but his hands reached out towards Wooyoung. “We have to go,” he said desperately. “Leave him. Get on the boat, Wooyoung.”

Wooyoung looked beyond Yeosang, expression twisting with rage as he placed a hand on Yeosang’s shoulder and pushed him aside surprisingly non-violently, barely making Yeosang stumble out of his path.

_ “I’ll leave when he’s nothing but dust,”  _ he hissed, beginning to storm forward once more-

Yeosang panicked.

Because Chaos was going to kill Wooyoung. Maybe all of them. 

And Wooyoung clearly wasn’t in his right mind, wasn’t going to let Chaos just walk away.

For a moment, fear had him rooted in place, shaking like a pitiful leaf.

And then he lunged forward, grabbing Wooyoung’s wrist and jerking it back. Wooyoung whipped around, more lightning cracking around him.

_ “Do not try-“ _

Yeosang slammed his palm against Wooyoung’s forehead, wincing at the burning heat, clenching his eyes shut.

“Calm yourself,” he whispered, feeling the familiar wash of cold through his veins.

He opened his eyes in time to see Wooyoung’s eyes roll back as he crumpled like dry sand to the ground, Yeosang barely able to catch him, shaking too hard to hold him up as they sank down.

“Get him to the ship!” he cried, tears falling as his vision swam from the exertion of calming him.

Before he had even finished speaking, Mingi and Yunho were picking Wooyoung up like he weighed nothing, racing off as Yeosang struggled to his feet, the world spinning dangerously.

He clutched his forehead, cursing as his skin began to crawl again-

“Let’s go,” Seonghwa's voice suddenly sounded in his ear as arms wrapped around him tightly.

The world physically flipped this time as Yeosang’s feet left the ground, Seonghwa wrapped around him tightly as they suddenly rocketed through the air.

Feeling ill, Yeosang clung to him, ducking his head and clenching his eyes shut as he heard Chaos roaring behind them.

The air around them seemed to vibrate, as if responding to his anger, and Yeosang could only swallow a painful gag as his stomach rolled-

“Almost there,” Seonghwa muttered, distracted as he scanned the ground. “Hold on, we’ll be okay…” He said a few other things, but Yeosang felt so ill…

So…

So  _ wrong. _

He wondered if this is what Wooyoung had felt when he kissed Yeosang without asking.

Their feet slammed unexpectedly on the deck, Yeosang’s knees buckling and only held up by Seonghwa’s grip.

“Get us out of here!” he heard Mingi yell behind him.

“Hold on!” Hongjoong ordered, the ship giving a horrible lurch as the wind picked up around them.

Yeosang still had his eyes closed, but he knew what was happening- the sea and sky shooting them off into the water like a bullet, much faster than any natural force could push them.

Everyone held on for dear life as they shot through the water, leaving the island and the raging presence behind themselves. 

Yeosang felt the sickness in his stomach retreat, allowing him to breathe as Seonghwa helped him sit on the deck, keeping a firm hand on his back soothingly.

“We won’t slow down for a while,” Hongjoong called over the water and wind racing passed them. “Take Wooyoung down and find a cabin for him. All of you get some rest, too,” he ordered. “There are only five cabins, so some will have to share.”

Yeosang spit onto the deck, clearing his mouth of the acidic taste of bile as Seonghwa murmured quietly to him, rubbing comforting circles in his back.

“That was well done,” Seonghwa assured him quietly.

Yeosang swallowed shakily, lifting his head, everything still unsteady. “I p-panicked,” he managed, limbs still shaking as he stared at his trembling hands. “I didn’t know… what else to d-do…”

“It was better than anything the rest of us could have done,” Hongjoong’s voice said, dropping down to crouch beside Yeosang. “Are you alright?” he asked, expression gentle.

Yeosang nodded. “I feel sick,” he murmured. “I think that was Chaos, though, not using my element… ‘m dizzy,” he added.

Hongjoong stroked his hair gently. “Seonghwa will take you to lay down. You should eat something, too, later.”

Yeosang nodded, too sick and groggy to fight as Seonghwa murmured comfortingly to him as he helped him stand on shaky legs.

The new ship was unfamiliar, but he didn’t really care as Seonghwa took him to an empty cabin and laid him down on the bed.

Everything kept spinning for a while, Yeosang losing track of time after a while. He didn’t sleep, but he stayed very still and tried not to throw up.

The part of his mind not struggling against nausea was searching for Wooyoung, trying to feel how weak or unsteady his presence was. He could feel him a few rooms down, but he couldn’t focus enough to read the presence effectively. 

There was no chaotic noise, though, so he felt okay. 

Well, not okay. Worry almost made him feel more sick than the nausea did. Worry over what had happened to Wooyoung, what he’d had to do, what Yeosang forced on him-

Yeosang had never put someone unconscious so quickly, with so little concentration before. He was afraid of what it might do to Wooyoung. 

Part of him wanted to ask Seonghwa to take him to Wooyoung. He wanted to see that he was okay, wanted to calm him if he was turbulent-

It was like a different kind of unrest in his muscles, urging him to go find Wooyoung. 

He just wanted to be there. Helping. 

Holding-

Hongjoong knocked on the door gently as he opened it, sticking his head inside with an apologetic smile. “The moon is out,” he said quietly. “Do you want to come on deck?”

Part of Yeosang still felt too sick to move, but he nodded hopefully, sitting up slowly. He was hoping that the moon might be able to wash away the linger disgust on his skin.

And maybe calm his own disordered emotions that were rising and falling like the tides. 

Hongjoong helped him down the hall, and Yeosang glanced back at the door he knew Wooyoung was inside, feeling the urge to ask to see him-

He wanted to be there- 

Hongjoong sat with him on deck, surprisingly- both of them staring out as Yeosang turned his face to the slightly-larger moon. Usually, Hongjoong stayed below deck or up by the helm. 

They were the only two out here- not even another person in the crow’s nest.

As soon as the moonlight hit his skin, Yeosang took a relieving breath, eyes closed as he basked in the cool light.

He shivered lightly as the lingering jitters cleared from his blood, finally letting him breathe without feeling sick.

The railing on this ship was lower than the last, letting Yeosang lean on it while slumping over, not needing to reach quite so high. 

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you send someone unconscious,” Hongjoong murmured after a long, long time.

Yeosang didn’t open his eyes, humming tiredly. “If the moon had been any smaller, I probably would have passed out again,” he assured him quietly. “But… just calming him still would have taken time we didn’t have.”

He jumped slightly when a gentle hand rested on his shoulder, squeezing tightly. “I’m sorry it got that far,” Hongjoong said quietly, withdrawing the hand quickly. “We should have never even given him a chance to touch you.”

Yeosang opened his eyes slowly, staring up at the glowing orb in the sky. “Some things can’t be helped… You did what you could.” He swallowed. “I hope those mortals are okay…”

“Chaos is disruptive, but it doesn’t kill so easily,” Hongjoong assured him. “They likely escaped without many deaths.”

Yeosang hummed, quietly relieved.

“Wooyoung… is quite protective of you, Yeosang.”

The comment made something in his stomach twist. Something even Yeosang didn’t have a name for. 

But Yeosang didn’t even bother acting confused, nodding slowly. “I would say he would do the same for anyone… and maybe he would… but I know that I’m… special to him.”

The comment made something in his stomach twist. 

What was that? 

Hongjoong hummed curiously, much too casual. “And… is he special to you?”

Yeosang could feel hesitant eyes looking at him faintly, but he stared at his hands, lips pressing together quietly. 

His stomach twisted. It wasn’t sickness clinging to him. It felt… worse. 

But Yeosang was nothing if not self-aware. 

“Yes,” he replied honestly, quietly. “I can’t… explain why… but he is. Unlike anyone else I’ve ever met…”

Maybe it was the way Wooyoung looked at the world- different from anyone else Yeosang ever knew. 

Maybe it was Wooyoung’s unique personality- one that Yeosang had never quite seen from anyone else. 

Maybe… maybe it was the little things. The self-deprecating anger and gentle regret that kept swinging back and forth. 

Wooyoung was breathtaking. 

Yeosang’s stomach twisted. 

Was it worry? No. 

“Well, he’s certainly unlike anyone any of us have met,” Hongjoong chuckled lightly, leaning on his knees and smiling quietly. “I’m trying to scold you.”

“I know.”

“I just wanted you both to be aware of yourselves.”

“I know.”

“I’m not worried about Wooyoung, aside from what may potentially happen to his emotions.”

“I know.” 

Hongjoong glanced at him, faux annoyance as he smiled. “You know everything.”

“I don’t,” Yeosang assured him quietly. “I don’t know how to help Wooyoung.”

Hongjoong sighed, shaking his head. “You have been helping-“

“I know how to make him complacent,” Yeosang said firmly. “I know how to put bandages on his wounds. I know how to tell him the truth. None of it sticks, Hongjoong,” he pressed as his expression tightened. “He still thinks he’s some sort of monster, he still thinks that he’s never going to be worthy of anything, he’s still  _ hurting- _ “

Twisting. 

“You can’t fix this immediately,” Hongjoong said sternly. “You  _ know _ that, Yeosang. You do know how to help him. What you  _ don’t _ know is how the hell you’re going to make it another minute while looking at him being in pain.”

His voice dipped- becoming just that side of sharp, a little defensive, and a little too knowing. 

Yeosang shut his eyes, emotions burning behind them. “I know that you and Seonghwa went through similar experiences,” he said quietly. “But Seonghwa isn’t Wooyoung. No one’s experiences are comparable to his-“

“You help people by empathizing,” Hongjoong broke in gently. “You don’t know what Wooyoung’s going through, so you can’t empathize. All you can do is sit there and try and be what he needs from you.” His lips twitched quietly. “That’s what the rest of us foolish gods have to do, without your sixth sense.”

Yeosang might have laughed, but all he managed was to feel slightly less distraught as he glanced at Hongjoong who smiled gently in understanding.

He felt sick again, but not for any real reason. 

“It’s going to be hell for Wooyoung,” he murmured, “but it’s going to be hell on you, too, Yeosang…” His eyes were knowing. “Are you together now?”

Yeosang took a slow breath, the sensation of warm, desperate lips against his still echoing against his skin.

Stomach twisting and twisting in knots- 

“Not in so many words,” he confessed, drawing his legs up as his blood sped up but turned colder. “But I think… yes, in every way but by labeling it.”

Hongjoong nodded slowly, humming with a quiet gaze still on Yeosang. “I’m glad,” he admitted. “I think Wooyoung needs someone like that.”

What was he feeling? What emotion was making him sick? 

Yeosang’s lips managed to twitch as he glanced at the other, eyes still heavy. “But I don’t?” 

“I want you to have someone,” Hongjoong assured him. “And… maybe I don’t know how exactly Wooyoung became that person… but I’m glad you have someone.”

Yeosang knew it was hard for Hongjoong. But he felt… so glad that he had learned to trust Wooyoung. 

Yeosang chuckled heavily. “You just want someone to understand when you complain about Seonghwa.”

“Not at all,” Hongjoong said with exaggerated innocence, not looking at him. “I have no ulterior motives. Just want my family to be happy.”

He laughed, resting his chin on his knees, his chest feeling lighter. “I’m… I wanted to be that person to him,” he whispered lowly. “Someone… that would make him happy. I wanted that in whatever capacity he wanted it. Whether it was as companions… or something more…”

His stomach lurched, and his quiet expression turned slightly strained. 

He trailed off slightly, and he felt Hongjoong glance at him with the barest of frowns on his brow.

Yeosang swallowed, chewing his lip for a moment. “But… I’m… also really…” He frowned slightly, the words tangling in his chest.

He felt sick. 

“You’re happy?” Hongjoong offered gently.

“No- I mean, I am,” Yeosang said firmly, fisting his pants loosely. “But I… feel… a lot of things when I look at him.”

What was  _ hurting _ so badly? His expression fell further. 

Hongjoong’s confusion cleared as he made a face of understanding. “Ah,” he breathed, nodding slowly. “I see. So you love him.”

_ Don’t say that.  _

Yeosang grit his teeth, blood a little too warm. He nodded slowly. “I think so,” he whispered hoarsely. “I… I didn’t know which kind of love it was… And I still don’t really understand, but it… it was supposed to be both.”

“Did you… tell him?” Hongjoong ventured carefully. 

Yeosang shook his head slowly. “I… I’m… scared,” he breathed, the cool light of the moon providing only the barest of relief to how his blood ran faster.

He placed a hand on his stomach, wincing as something icy settled in it. 

It wasn’t fear? 

“Of what?” Hongjoong asked quietly, as if running through a list of questions he knew would lead Yeosang to the right answer.

“I…” His mouth tasted like ash. 

Yeosang had been truthful before.

In everything he had ever said to Wooyoung, he had never intentionally or knowingly lied.

“I told him… that I didn’t make real decisions,” he whispered. “That I was so utterly fine with any option… that it didn’t matter which one was chosen. I was completely happy with either.”

Hongjoong nodded, knowing this side of Yeosang well.

“And I meant it,” Yeosang assured him, swallowing thickly around the stone in his throat.

_ Do not touch him! _

“B-But… but now… I think I love him…” He closed his eyes, lowering his head to his knees protectively as his throat tightened painfully. “I think I love him… in  _ that _ way,” he whispered weakly. “I think… want… I want to be with him. I want… him as more than just a companion.”

His stomach dropped and Yeosang grit his teeth as the sensation finally clicked. 

Oh. That was guilt. 

Heavy, stinging guilt. 

He wanted the things that Wooyoung had almost been afraid to do.

The sensation of Wooyoung pressing closer to him chased through his mind as he tried to avoid it- shaking his head sharply-

Sometimes, Yeosang hated his gentle nature. 

Hated how his mind accepted things even subconsciously- just days ago he had told Wooyoung it didn’t matter. 

It didn’t. Yeosang wanted to be happy with Wooyoung, in any way, but- 

But Yeosang- he didn’t  _ know- _

“But…” Hongjoong frowned. “I thought… you said you were already together. In  _ that _ way.”

“We are. As much as we can be.” He lowered his head further, feeling his heart slowly sinking as he pressed his lips together tightly.

“Then… Then what’s wrong with wanting that?” Hongjoong questioned, scooting closer a laying a hand against Yeosang’s back. “He wants it too, doesn’t he? Has he indicated that he doesn’t?”

Yeosang shook his head, clenching his eyes shut as tears prickled at them, a turbulent pressure in his chest. 

“Then… what’s wrong with wanting that, Yeosang?” he asked in quiet, concerned confusion.

“Because it’s  _ selfish _ !” Yeosang burst, lifting his head to stare at Hongjoong as he felt like his heart was being sucked away. “It’s  _ selfish _ of me to want that-“

“Why?” Hongjoong demanded, blinking in bewilderment.

“Because what if one day, he doesn’t?” he demanded, taking a deep breath as he threatened to break down, shoving those emotions away. “What if he decides he only wants to be friends? If I want to be more, I’ll regret it when he changes his mind! It’s not fair of me to show regret when I told him I would be fine with either- that I just wanted him to be happy!”

The first tear fell, but Yeosang didn’t even feel it.

Guilt burned his chest. 

“He’s not- not going to be happy if I regret it,” Yeosang cried, rubbing at his dampening eyes. “It’s not fair for me to regret something that he changed his mind about! That’s his right! I can’t want to be more- He- He won’t be h-happy if I-“

He just wanted him to be happy. 

Why was he so selfish, he couldn’t even let him be  _ happy- _

Hongjoong grabbed his shoulder firmly. “That’s not-“

“What about you?”

Yeosang jumped much too high as he and Hongjoong both whipped around. 

Wooyoung stood at the mouth of the stairs, supporting himself with one hand on the wall, though he seemed to be standing well enough on his own.

His countenance was one of disappointed confusion.

And it took Yeosang several seconds to realize it was  _ Wooyoung _ standing there. 

Having heard everything. 

Yeosang’s heart dropped, lips parting as he tried to think of something to say, something to reassure him, to take back what he had said-

Wooyoung took a slow step forward, staring at Yeosang with hooded eyes. “What about what makes you happy?”

Yeosang stared, startled as he shook his head. “I-I… That’s-“

Wooyoung slowly stepped forward, expression tightening. “Why does my happiness matter more than yours?” 

It was almost accusing. 

“That’s not- That’s not what I meant,” Yeosang fought, fingers curling tightly, feeling like he had been caught doing something he shouldn’t. “But- I- I’m  _ already _ happy, Wooyoung,” he pressed, placing a hand to his heart that was beating out of his chest. “You- You deserve to have whatever can finally make you happy-“

“Why would I be happy if you were miserable?” Wooyoung questioned quietly, standing before the two of them.

Yeosang winced. 

“I wouldn’t be  _ miserable _ ,” Yeosang said fiercely, shaking his head. “It’s- It’s not like I don’t  _ want _ to be with you like that. It’s not like it’s some nightmare to think about-“

Wooyoung knelt down onto one knee, just in front of Yeosang who froze, leaning back slightly.

He didn’t know what he expected Wooyoung to feel. Disappointment? Betrayal, thinking Yeosang had lied to him?

But Wooyoung just stared at him calmly, almost a bit curious, as if trying to fathom what Yeosang was saying.

There didn’t seem… to be any sort of disorder in his eyes. 

He looked perfectly coherent. 

It unnerved him. He didn’t think he’d ever seen… Wooyoung like this. 

“So you would prefer to be more,” Wooyoung murmured quietly, eyes intent. “Why are you acting like it’s a crime to have a preference, Yeosang?” he whispered.

“I told you I would be equally fine with either!” he cried, chest tightening.

“So you changed your mind,” Wooyoung said gently, frowning as if… as if slightly pained. “Isn’t that your right as much as it’s mine?”

“That’s not the point!” Yeosang snapped, eyes burning with shame. “I’m not- not supposed to be like that! I can’t- I’m supposed to be fine with either! I’m supposed to let you choose what would make you happy without ruining it just because I-“

“Because you love me?”

Yeosang choked off, eyes widening as tears welled in guilt and shame. 

So he’d heard…  _ everything. _

“Should I feel betrayed because there’s someone on this forsaken earth that loves me?” Wooyoung whispered, eyes tightening. “Do you honestly think my happiness is worth more than yours?”

“Don’t act like I haven’t been fighting you every step of the way just to convince you you were more than your elements,” Yeosang snapped, trying to glare pathetically. “You have no right to talk.”

“You did convince me.”

Wooyoung eyes flickered from Yeosang, something almost shamed in them.

“You did convince me,” he repeated firmly. “I’ve believed… everything you’ve ever told me, Yeosang. I never said I was good at remembering it… but there’s never been a moment that I doubted it.”

Because believing and retaining…. were two different things. 

Yeosang hadn’t realized just how close they were until Wooyoung lifted a hand and laid it against Yeosang’s wrist, holding it gently as he stared at him.

Yeosang blinked hard to clear the tears, still trying to think of a million ways to defend himself-

“Wouldn’t it selfish of me to place my happiness above yours?” Wooyoung asked thickly, eyes beginning to shimmer.

His hand was warm.

“Name a single time you’ve ever been happy before you got to this ship,” Yeosang challenged weakly, helpless but to keep staring at him. “I’ve had happiness for centuries, Wooyoung. It’s not-“

“So there’s a limit to how much happiness I’m allowed to have before I have to give it up for someone else?” he questioned.

“No!” Yeosang burst, finally managing a bitter glare. “Stop it-“

“Stop what?” Wooyoung demanded quietly. “Wanting you to be happy?”

“It’s not fair of me!” he yelled, fist clenching. “You’re going to feel obligated-“

“I don’t feel obligated to do anything,” Wooyoung said simply, so calm-

When… when had he ever been so calm? So collected- enough to play Yeosang’s own games against him.

Except now, it was Yeosang floundering while Wooyoung gazed on in the sort of calm you only had when you knew you were right.

The scales were tipping. 

Yeosang hadn’t heard Hongjoong move, but he suddenly saw their leader slipping away back below deck. 

Leaving Yeosang to fend for himself. 

He glared at Wooyoung for not understanding. 

“I’m not going to risk ruining-“

“Ruining what?” Wooyoung asked, glancing around before looking back to Yeosang with clear eyes. “As far as I’m aware, the two of us are in agreement for what we want.”

“That might change!” he fought desperately. “If you decide you  _ didn’t _ want it-“

“You’re assuming an awful lot about what I want,” Wooyoung accused in a bare whisper, eyes slowly dragging over Yeosang’s features.

The hand from his wrist released him and reached up slowly.

Yeosang shut his eyes as Wooyoung’s callused hand dragged gingerly beneath his eye, sweeping away the damp collected there.

“If you’re selfish for having a preference… then so am I,” Wooyoung whispered, causing Yeosang to shut his eyes tighter, bracing himself for something. “I made the choice to be more, didn’t I? I kissed you-“ 

“I told you to,” Yeosang breathed, still tensed.

“And now I’m telling you to,” Wooyoung murmured, suddenly sounding so much closer- a warm body heat reaching Yeosang’s skin. “Do you know what would make me happy, Yeosang?”

He didn’t answer, swallowing thickly as his heart bruised his ribcage.

“Seeing you… safe… and without any sort of threat to you. Seeing you happy… and living how you wanted… not how you thought you should.”

Wooyoung’s forehead rested gingerly against his.

“That would make me… very happy, Yeosang.”

It was clear that Wooyoung had no intention of retracting his desires for Yeosang. But it still felt wrong. Picking a side felt  _ wrong- _

“It would also make me very happy… if I could kiss you, Yeosang,” he breathed, sending a shiver down Yeosang’s spine. “Because… I was scared, before,” he whispered, breath fanning over Yeosang’s lips. “And I… The only thing I can think to do is feel that you’re actually okay…” 

There was a sort of… rough poeticism to the statement. Like Wooyoung had a million beautiful emotions inside of him… but didn’t know how to articulate them in ways they really understood.

Yeosang could read those as easily as he read his hesitant expression, though.

_ I was terrified today, and all I want to do is hold you. _

“I am okay,” Yeosang breathed, beginning to barely open his eyes but closing them quickly when Wooyoung was  _ right there. _

“May I?” he whispered, a warm hand resting at Yeosang’s cheek.

Yeosang wanted this.

He wanted it, even as he felt guilty for wanting it, and he could suddenly understand one part of Wooyoung so much better.

Yeosang’s answer came in the form of bracing himself as he rose slightly onto his knees to connect their lips gently.

Wooyoung’s arms immediately wrapped around him, surprising Yeosang enough to have him gasping as Wooyoung tugged him forward until Yeosang’s body was tucked against him, kissing him deeper as hands roamed over his sides and through his hair, touching wherever they could-

Yeosang moaned, small and weak in the back of his throat, feeling the intrinsic urge to slow Wooyoung down, but…

He didn’t this time.

This wasn’t Wooyoung losing control or seeking a comfort too desperately for Yeosang to give…

It was… loving. 

Pure and simple.

Yeosang had seen it before, in passing, when their crew would make it through a close call with Hongjoong, and Seonghwa didn’t want to leave his side for the next week- seeking out physical comfort as a way of ensuring that the person was still there, still breathing, still okay-

Wooyoung touched every part of Yeosang he could reach, as if checking for cuts or bruises or anything causing pain. Yeosang let him, the gentle touches sending shivers down his spine as his clenched eyes slowly began to loosen- something warm and thick beginning to flow in his veins.

Wooyoung’s hands were rough. Callused and worn, they felt like they had held a million weapons and delivered a million blows. They were strong and solid where they roamed over Yeosang’s body that seemed almost paper-thin in comparison.

But they were gentle.

More gentle than Yeosang had ever been touched- their dance feather-light and almost ticklish, but more than anything… they were shaking.

Yeosang didn’t think it was necessarily with fear.

They broke apart with a quiet gasp, Wooyoung resting their foreheads together firmly, like he was afraid Yeosang would tug away.

Yeosang’s eyes opened slowly and found Wooyoung’s closed- not clenched, but tight enough to be blocking something out.

Yeosang felt like something inside of him was threatening to break out, and he had never felt it before, but he didn’t fear it.

He reached up, laying his palm against Wooyoung’s cheek carefully.

His chest lurched when Wooyoung leaned into the touch, lips pressing to his wrist gently as his eyes shut tighter.

“I’m okay,” Yeosang murmured, surprised by how thick his voice came out as his chest constricted. “Wooyoung…” He stroked a thumb over his cheek, but he didn’t move. “Wooyoung, look at me,” he whispered comfortingly.

Reluctantly, Wooyoung’s eyes fluttered open, still half-shut, afraid of what he’d find.

His eyes danced in the moonlight- shimmering like diamonds in half-formed, unshed tears.

“I’m okay,” he breathed, their bodies impossibly close. He felt every shift and flex of Wooyoung as he shifted against him- closer and then back and then ever closer-

Wooyoung stared at him, as if trying to believe him. There was fear in his eyes, but it was like a drop of ink in an ocean- merely one part of a million other things swirling endlessly.

Wooyoung was discovering himself.

This, Yeosang knew.

He was adjusting to thinking of himself as more than War, and as something other than just Love. He was learning to think of himself as Wooyoung with Love and War as parts of himself- but parts that were learning to exist in some sort of balance, now.

He was making progress in leaps and bounds. Particularly in the appearance of Love more and more obviously in his actions, expression, and voice. Even if it hurt him… he was learning to accept that part of him.

Wooyoung could only make progress in one way, it seemed: by slamming through a brick wall he had once thought impossible. There was no slow progress- he made no small steps or gentle realizations.

His acceptance of Love was impossibly difficult. But all of a sudden, it was practically glowing from him. His acceptance of himself as  _ Wooyoung _ was a fight against his nature. But Yeosang blinked and suddenly, he was referring to himself consistently.

And now… now Wooyoung was looking at him in a way that he never had before.

Something… utterly heartbreaking and heartbroken.

Wooyoung’s eyes trailed from Yeosang’s eyes to stare at his jaw, expression tightening the barest amount as his fingertips brushed over his jaw like nothing more than a breath of wind.

Yeosang winced at the slight ache in his jaw that he hadn’t noticed before, watching Wooyoung retract his hand quickly, still staring sadly.

“He… hurt you,” Wooyoung murmured quietly, swallowing.

“Is there a bruise?” Yeosang asked gently, touching his own jaw and feeling it twinge in leftover pain.

Wounds inflicted by gods already took a bit longer to heal, but a god like Chaos… someone so opposite to Yeosang’s entire nature… It would heal quickly, but even hours later, the lingering ache remained barely.

Wooyoung nodded, still staring at the dark spot blankly. “I… He grabbed you,” he whispered, tearing his eyes away to stare wide-eyed at Yeosang. “And I… I was… I thought I would be angry,” he breathed, lips beginning to tremble. “But… But I was just… scared. I was  _ scared- _ “

“I’m okay,” Yeosang murmured reflexively, heart twisting because he knew what it felt like to stand by, helpless, while others were being targeted.

“I- You’re not weak,” Wooyoung breathed, shaking his head. “Y-You’re not,” he pressed. “But I was- No one was doing anything, and he just- You were just-“

Yeosang had been nothing but a speck in the hands of a very large, dangerous opponent that none of them could afford to outright attack.

“You’re not… worthless,” Wooyoung whispered, staring at Yeosang intently, like he might need reminding. “He- He called you all those things. You’re not, Yeosang,” he hissed fiercely. “You’re not. You’re-“

Wooyoung stuttered, freezing as he stared, as if he had just realized something. Or maybe something had just hit him in the chest as hard as his words were hitting Yeosang.

Yeosang was silent as Wooyoung swallowed, almost looking afraid again. But that wasn’t even the primary emotion in Wooyoung’s eyes.

His eyes that suddenly flickered red.

Yeosang startled, but… even in the brief moment, he knew that the red wasn’t the same as War. 

That wasn’t what War’s eyes looked like.

War’s eyes burned. Like fire, too hot to touch and dangerous to approach.

The flicker in Wooyoung’s eyes that made Yeosang freeze was… bright. But not burning. Almost like a vibrant silken red ribbon flashing across his eyes- rippling and glinting in beautiful moonlight-

“He threatened you,” Wooyoung whispered, staring at Yeosang intently fearfully. “And I… I didn’t… It was then that I got so  _ angry, _ ” he hissed, expression pinching. “But… it felt weird. D-Different.”

Another… flicker of silken ribbon, like a jewel glinting, rather than a flame flickering.

Yeosang's mouth went dry. 

Was that… Love?

“Becoming angry?” Yeosang asked, his tongue dry as he stared in stunned silent because…

Well… Wooyoung had shown a caring side, especially where Yeosang was involved. But hearing him admit… admit to all of this, to hear- from his own mouth and not Yeosang’s inferences- just how deeply he cared, how enraged he had become on his behalf…

Even the cool light of the moon wasn’t doing much to calm the way his entire skin felt hot from Wooyoung’s body still pressed against his.

“I was angry,” Wooyoung murmured, his hand idly stroking Yeosang’s side as his eyes dragged across his face slowly. “But I didn’t feel…  _ War _ when I attacked him.”

His eyes tightened, afraid and confused as his brows pulled down. 

Yeosang wanted to calm him, but he didn’t think Wooyoung was panicking. He still brushed a hand gently over his cheek, the only form of comfort he could think to give at the moment because his heart was pounding and his mind seemed incapable of looking anywhere but the way Wooyoung’s eyes snapped to stare at Yeosang’s at his gentle touch.

The flicker of red suddenly came and stayed, eyes glowing a gentle, vibrant crimson-

That wasn’t War.

“I… I think it was Love,” Wooyoung whispered hoarsely, eyes glowing blankly. “But I… I think…” He swallowed thickly.

Yeosang stared at the glowing eyes that he had never seen before… His throat closed up as Wooyoung stared at him, something like pride and joy clinging to his chest at the thought that Love was becoming strong enough to manifest like this-

“I haven’t… ever felt… the things I feel from you,” Wooyoung breathed, swallowing thickly. “You…  _ terrify _ me, Yeosang.”

His eyes shone brighter, like more power being placed behind it as he stared at Yeosang.

Yeosang felt like he was going to throw up, but it somehow the most amazing feeling churning in his stomach, slowly climbing into his throat-

Yeosang… was complacent. He went with the flow and he accepted anything and everything that came his way.

He didn’t have fiery desires.

He didn’t have burning wishes in his soul that he begged to come true.

At least, never for himself. If he had them, he wished and begged for others- for Hongjoong to know peace, for Jongho to grow strong, for Wooyoung to be happy…

He was looking at Wooyoung- he had  _ been _ looking at Wooyoung- and he  _ wanted. _

He wanted so many things. Selfish, heart-rendering things for himself, aside from the multitude of desires he wished for Wooyoung.

He wanted Wooyoung. He wanted him like this- pressed against him with his eyes glowing a gentle, comforting crimson that didn’t burn. He wanted him in the way his stomach churned and his skin felt warmed to the touch.

He wanted him to stay, and he wanted him to be happy… and he wanted those things for himself, selfishly, too.

Wooyoung made Yeosang want things for himself, as much as he wanted them for Wooyoung.

Wooyoung made Yeosang selfish.

He made him  _ want _ Wooyoung… more than he  _ feared _ being selfish.

“You terrify me,” he repeated hoarsely, his hands beginning to slowly wander again, trailing up Yeosang’s sides and warming paths up his arms so… so very slowly.

Yeosang shivered, his skin beginning to buzz. The air suddenly felt thicker.

“Because you make me… calm,” he whispered, eyes glowing a bit brighter before dimming. “I have never known peace… before meeting you, Yeosang. You have allowed me the peace of mind… that I thought I would have to die to achieve.”

It had been so long since Yeosang had thought about the Wooyoung who had first stepped onto the ship… the statement of his first fear… slammed into him like a sledgehammer.

He had forgotten about the Wooyoung who wanted to die.

He had been so occupied with the Wooyoung who struggled with control, he had forgotten the Wooyoung that had screamed about never knowing peace.

“I’m not… better, Yeosang,” Wooyoung said firmly, glowing eyes beginning to shimmer. “But you made me believe… that there was a ‘better’ from where I was. I thought I knew everything,” he chuckled weakly. “I thought I was so smart, thinking that the only way I would ever know peace was to die-“

Yeosang shook his head helplessly, even though he knew that these thoughts no longer followed him.

Wooyoung… smiled.

Warm and sad and heartbreaking… he smiled at Yeosang as the light in his eyes grew brighter.

“I don’t want to die anymore,” he breathed. “I haven’t wanted that for a while. I went from thinking I had to die to believing I didn’t deserve to live, even if I wanted to.”

He kept shaking his head, making Wooyoung laugh as the first tear streaked down his cheek. Wooyoung’s hands cupped Yeosang’s cheeks, pressing their foreheads together tighter as his eyes scrunched with how hard he smiled.

“You made me… want to live,” Wooyoung breathed, thumbs stroking over Yeosang’s skin gently.

Yeosang could only stare, breath stolen and lungs constricting as his heart swelled in his chest.

Wooyoung… was breathtaking.

“And not just for you,” he laughed, something light in his voice. “You made me… want  _ this-“ _ A quick hand waved around him. “You made me want what you…have. This  _ love _ … the people here, the way that even as they’re yelling, I can feel Love and it’s  _ deafening, _ Yeosang-“

Wooyoung shut his eyes, hands falling to rest against Yeosang’s chest.

“You told me… that I was more than War and Love,” he whispered hoarsely. “I thought… that what I wanted from you was just a product of Love, that it wasn’t real-“

Yeosang felt his own eyes burning, biting his cheek as he felt all the bubbling emotions in his chest begin to spill over as Wooyoung opened his eyes that were no longer glowing.

They were brown and pale… shining in the moonlight reflecting in them, creating a collection of stars on his lashes that had tears clinging to them.

Love was not staring back at Yeosang.

In his eyes was all Wooyoung.

“But I believe that even if Love was ripped from the world completely… I would still feel these things for you.”

Yeosang’s vision blurred until he could barely make out Wooyoung’s face in the darkness, only the gentle casting of moonlight giving outline to him.

Yeosang startled gently when Wooyoung brushed warm lips against his forehead, resting them there for a moment. “Even if that part of me were to die out entirely… I have to believe that it couldn’t touch what I found in you, Yeosang.”

Yeosang surprised even himself at the weak sob that escaped his lips, tearing from his chest in the most brilliant, painful way. Wooyoung made to pull away, taken aback by the sound, but Yeosang dragged him down, embracing him until his own muscles protested.

Wooyoung tucked himself willingly against Yeosang’s neck, arms coming to hold Yeosang back, both of them sucking in breaths that shook a little too much.

Yeosang felt like the moon was a little too close- like he did on full moons.

Like his mind was beginning to float, even as he felt a million volts of energy shooting through his body.

“You’ve come so far,” he whispered desperately into Wooyoung’s shoulder, heart aching.

Wooyoung laughed wetly, trembling slightly when Yeosang curled his fingers into the back of his shirt. “I think… I’m still feeling the effects of whatever you did to me earlier,” he whispered, voice shaking with laughter and something else. “Because I’ve known all of this for a while… but I kept being too afraid to say it.”

Yeosang swallowed when Wooyoung pressed a barely-there kiss to his jaw.

“But I don’t feel so scared right now,” he whispered hoarsely, “so I want to say it all before I lose my nerve.”

Yeosang laughed quietly, tucking his head down as his throat closed up. “I’m still scared,” Yeosang murmured thickly. “But not of this. Not of you.”

“I want you to be happy, too,” Wooyoung said, voice muffled by Yeosang’s shirt. His grip on his shirt tightened. “Be selfish, Yeosang,” he almost begged. “ _ Want _ things. Go after the things you want.” There was a quiet pause where he breathed roughly. “You’ve given me too many things for me to be able to hear you say that what you want is wrong or dangerous.”

Yeosang was still afraid.

If only he could calm himself, but his heart hadn’t stopped trying to choke itself since Wooyoung showed up, and all Yeosang wanted to do was kiss him and never let him go. He wanted to keep him close and safe… He wanted him to be happy.

Yeosang… made him happy.

And Wooyoung made Yeosang want.

He made Yeosang…  _ want _ to be brave.

“I’ve cared for you too much since the moment you arrived,” Yeosang said in a rush, voice catching dangerously as he squeezed his eyes shut. “I don’t know why- There was no singular thing you did. But I wanted to- to save you. And by getting close to you, I just… I just didn’t want to get further away. And I was determined to be whatever it was that you needed. Whether it was a companion, or someone to ground you, or someone to calm you, or-“

“This?” Wooyoung whispered, fingers flexing on Yeosang’s shirt before pressing warm palms to his back.

Yeosang's breath caught as he nodded slowly, still keeping his eyes closed. “I’d considered it… and I was more than fine with it.” He sucked in a painful breath. “I don’t want to have regrets, Wooyoung,” he breathed, “but I don’t want to make you regret anything either.”

There was a silence that terrified Yeosang for a moment.

“I… could never regret you,” Wooyoung murmured, his voice a kind of determined that made Yeosang close his eyes harder. “Not what you did for me, nor what I… what I want you to be to me. What you want to be to me… I’d never regret it, Yeosang.”

Yeosang wondered if this is what it felt like.

The moments he wanted to shake Wooyoung to just make him believe that he was worth something more than just War… and he wondered why Wooyoung couldn’t just believe him.

He wondered if this is what Wooyoung meant.

When Wooyoung said that he had believed Yeosang, even if he couldn’t accept it.

Yeosang believed Wooyoung. But fear was not so easily overcome. Especially when Yeosang had lived his life peacefully without conflict.

He had never risked himself like this before.

But he had never wanted something enough to voice it, before.

“I want to kiss you,” he breathed, heart finally managing to choke him as he felt Wooyoung pause against him. I want everything with you, Wooyoung,” he said in a rush.

The air suddenly seemed ten degrees warmer as Wooyoung slowly leaned away from Yeosang.

“I want to be able to say it, too,” Yeosang said quickly, eyes shut. “I- I want you to be happy, but I want to be someone who makes you happy. B-But I want to be happy  _ with _ you. I want you to be happy with us-“

Wooyoung’s hand cupped his cheek gently, but Yeosang only spoke faster, blood warming.

“I w-want to protect you,” he said, voice dying in volume. “I want to help you, and I want to s-stay with you. I want you to stay-“ His breath hitched as Wooyoung’s thumb stroked over his skin. “I love you,” he blurted, stomach twisting. “I- I don’t know how or why, but I want- I want to keep being able to love you, Wooyoung-“

He just wanted Wooyoung.

They were gods. They had some version of eternity.

He wanted… the two of them. The eight of them. Happy.

His heart skipped when Wooyoung laughed wetly, his lips suddenly brushing against Yeosang’s, making him gasp quietly.

“I want to give you all that and more,” Wooyoung whispered, voice shaking.

It was warm.

It was warm enough that Yeosang cracked his eyes open.

Wooyoung’s entire eyes weren’t consumed by red- a bright crimson merely shone from his irises, the light from it seeming abnormally warm.

He was smiling. It wasn’t sad. It didn’t break Yeosang’s heart, even if it stole his breath.

He looked so…  _ happy. _

“I think I loved you the moment I saw you,” Wooyoung laughed quietly, a thumb brushing beneath Yeosang’s eye to wipe away the leftover tears. “You did something to Love, Yeosang. As if it already knew everything you were going to do for it.”

Wooyoung pressed a feather-light kiss to the corner of Yeosang’s mouth.

“You saw Love in me for the first time in millennia,” he breathed against his lips. “But do you know what?”

A warm hand stroked through his hair, making Yeosang shiver.

Wooyoung’s lips smiled against his. “It wasn’t Love that fell for you.” 

When Wooyoung finally turned to kiss him properly, Yeosang was already halfway there, both of them kissing a bit too hard at the unexpected meeting.

Yeosang placed his hands on Wooyoung’s hips, squeezing tightly as his head spun, eyes fluttering shut at the warmth that flooded him.

It was magnetic, the two of them. 

Wooyoung… seemed to have really lost his fear. His fingers plunged into Yeosang’s hair gently, tangling there as he pressed forward until he straddled Yeosang’s thighs, pressing them closer and making Yeosang gasp at the sudden change in the kiss’s angle.

Yeosang tensed at the sudden movement for a moment before tugging him closer by his hips, head tilting back as Wooyoung claimed his mouth in slow, warm movements that made Yeosang feel like he was burning.

Wooyoung was an overwhelming presence. Everything about him, even when gentle and careful, felt like being on the edge of a cliff, almost pushed over the end.

Yeosang wanted to be brave. He wanted… to be selfish, if it meant he got this with Wooyoung.

If, in the future, Wooyoung changed his mind, Yeosang would comply without hesitation.

Even if it wouldn’t necessarily be without pain.

But for now… Wooyoung was smiling against his lips as he kissed him as someone with the embodiment of Love residing inside of him.

Yeosang leaned back as Wooyoung kissed him, feeling his back hit the railing of the ship. He relaxed into it, letting the tension leave him.

Wooyoung’s hands shook where they began to travel across Yeosang’s body restlessly- caressing and gentle and warm-

Wooyoung was smiling. For now, at this moment… he was happy.

Yeosang threw his arms around Wooyoung’s neck, pulling him down as he shifted so that he could press against Wooyoung’s lips firmly- that warmth flooding down to his fingertips as Wooyoung moaned, traced patterns into Yeosang’s neck with his fingertips.

Wooyoung had come so far. Yeosang’s eyes burned, but it wasn’t bitter tears.

He was at  _ peace  _ for the moment. He was two immortal concepts who had finally begun to learn that they were secondary to  _ Wooyoung. _

He was accepting who he was. He was creating a new world for himself- seeking out things that he wanted.

Yeosang was so  _ happy _ for him.

Wooyoung broke away for a moment, pressing a brief to Yeosang’s jaw before claiming his lips again- slower this time, almost torturously so as Yeosang tried to focus enough to keep breathing as waves of shivers ran down his spine.

Yeosang was so  _ happy. _

Because Wooyoung was beautiful and  _ happy _ and breathtaking- mesmerizing and entrancing and powerful-

And Wooyoung was beginning to realize it himself.

Wooyoung was warm and solid and Yeosang felt… He felt powerful on it. Like standing in the middle of the full moon- something bordering on the edge of losing himself, but with enough power behind it that it felt like not even the earth could move him.

Wooyoung suddenly gasped, yanking away so fast that Yeosang instinctively caught him, holding on tightly as Wooyoung jerked his head around frantically.

A crimson mist floated from his skin- rising into the air and dispersing a few feet above him, like steam curling in the air.

Wooyoung looked at his arms, eyes wide and startled as the mist curled up from his skin slowly.

Yeosang stared, lips parted as both of them breathed heavily, staring at the phenomenon. “Oh,” he breathed weakly as Wooyoung looked above him.

Yeosang could feel the mist running over his hands that held onto Wooyoung.

It felt like submerging his arms in a hot spring- almost too hot, but giving the feeling that he should relax into it. Something comforting… something warm and consuming and-

“Is that… Love?” Wooyoung whispered, choked up as he watched the mist curl.

Yeosang glanced up and found his irises still dancing like crimson ribbons.

“I… I think so,” Yeosang admitted, finding his voice after a moment.

It was clear that Love had never been strong enough to manifest like this.

Wooyoung gasped, looking down at Yeosang’s hands holding onto him, jerking to grab them but stopping himself. He looked up at him quickly. “It- Does it hurt?” he asked uncertainly.

Yeosang shook his head, lifting one hand to carefully wrap around Wooyoung’s holding it and threading their fingers together. “No,” he assured him, staring at their hands, mesmerized by the way the mist seemed to cling to Yeosang’s skin.

Yeosang smiled quietly, something in his chest swelling with warmth.

“No, it feels… nice,” he said, glancing up at Wooyoung. “Is it hurting you?” he asked in concern.

Wooyoung shook his head slowly, still in awe as he stared at their joined hands. “I- I can sort of feel it here, like I always do.” His free hand ghosted over the small of his own back. “But… it just feels…”

He frowned, wetting his lips, trying to find a word to describe the indescribable.

Wooyoung’s hand suddenly pulled their joined hands to his chest, pressing them firmly against his left side. “It feels… sort of like this,” he whispered, staring at Yeosang with glassy eyes.

Yeosang flattened his palm against Wooyoung’s chest, waiting for a moment, until he felt Wooyoung’s heart racing frantically.

“Like a heartbeat?” Yeosang asked quietly.

Wooyoung still frowned, shaking his head slowly. “No, like… like I can feel it inside.”

“Inside your heart?”

He nodded sluggishly, frowning deeper. “It…” He suddenly laughed a little breathlessly. “It feels like you,” he whispered, looking at Yeosang like he was waiting for him to laugh.

Yeosang just felt his face heat horrifically, watching Wooyoung notice as he laughed- two hands coming to cup his cheeks and press a gentle kiss to the corner of his eye.

“So I guess it is Love,” he whispered against Yeosang’s skin, his smile audible. “It’s…” He was quiet for a moment before pressing another kiss to Yeosang’s eye. “I’ve never felt… in all my life...”

A kiss to the corner of his mouth, Yeosang’s eyes fluttering shut as a shiver ran down his skin, making his skin erupt into goosebumps as he grabbed Wooyoung’s arms for balance.

“… As much love as I’ve found here,” Wooyoung breathed, kissing the swell of his cheek. “In all the world… no one has had as much love for me… as you, Yeosang.”

A careful, warm kiss covered his lips, leaving before Yeosang could even imagine responding.

A final press of his lips touched Yeosang’s forehead.

“Not just romantic,” Wooyoung assured him quietly. “It’s  _ every _ kind, Yeosang. Every kind of Love is beautiful and valid and I can feel it  _ all… _ And I’ve felt so  _ much _ of it here. From you. From the moment I stepped on, you loved me.”

Not romantically.

Maybe not even platonically.

But the kind of love that made you give a coin to a poor man. The kind that made you pick up the half-drowned kitten from the streets.

The kind that made you look at a complete stranger and made your heart ache for them, just from the hopeless expression on their face. 

The kind that spurred action, not complacency.

The kind that made Yeosang look at this god who wanted peace and mistakenly thought he wanted death… and made him swear to himself that he would never let Wooyoung go.

Wooyoung embraced him. Warm and solid, and the mist from his skin wrapping around the both of them.

It felt like sliding into a hot bath.

Into someone’s embrace.

Hot and firm and encasing and embracing and almost enough to burn but more than enough to have you finally letting go of your burdens.

It felt like being told to let go.

It felt like being safe. Being treasured. Being loved…

“Thank you,” Wooyoung whispered, burying his nose in Yeosang’s hair, kissing the crown of his head gently.

His arms shook around Yeosang.

“Tomorrow, maybe I’ll be too afraid to do anything,” he breathed, making Yeosang’s heart clench. “But… for now… I at least know that it’s possible. I know that… that there’s a me, in the future… who could know what this feels like.”

Yeosang’s fists were threatening to tear his shirt, but he loosened them to wrap his arms around Wooyoung as best he could, face burying in his chest.

“I’ll see you to it,” Yeosang swore, voice thick and muffled. “I’ll be there when you see it, Wooyoung-”

“I know,” Wooyoung whispered, voice shaking as he pressed a hard kiss to his hair. “Because you’ll be the reason it happens.” 

Yeosang felt the moon sinking slowly in the sky.

He felt the sun grow closer, the air around them warming as night moved on. 

Yeosang’s hand absently trailed up and down Wooyoung’s spine, feeling the ridges and the way his back rose and fell with each breath that evened out- slow and even and… and peaceful.

Wooyoung idly rubbed a warm, gentle hand along the back of Yeosang’s neck as he continued to press careful, soft kisses to whatever part of Yeosang was closest- something almost languid and lazy about it.

As if they had both suddenly realized how much time they had.

The franticness had faded. The desperation had receded.

There was nothing left but a gentle warmth… soft touches… a lingering ache in Yeosang’s chest that he had never felt for anyone- even among the six others on this ship.

It felt… slow. Languid. But… stronger than anything Yeosang had ever felt rushing through his veins.

Even the full moon couldn’t compare to Wooyoung.

Moonlight faded as the horizon stained pink. 

The sun rose. 

It was long into the dull-grey morning when Yeosang began to wonder where the others were, Yunho at least usually rising with the sun.

Part of him was afraid to move- to break the careful walls that he and Wooyoung had built. He was scared to bring their attention back to the world around them- to tear Wooyoung away from the peace he had found.

They weren’t perfect yet.

Wooyoung was going to lose himself again. He was going to almost break, he was going to fight, he was going to hurt…

Yeosang wanted to give this to him as long as he could.

Even after his legs had gone numb, even after their limbs had grown tired… neither of them moved.

Until Seonghwa came out onto the deck.

Yeosang felt him approaching from the moment he stepped out into the hall below deck. Part of him begged for him to stay away, his hold on Wooyoung tightening fearfully, protectively… a little ignorantly. As if that might be enough to shield him.

Wooyoung laughed quietly in his chest, something almost tired about it as he pressed a gentle kiss to Yeosang’s temple.

“They’ve given us a while,” Wooyoung comforted, his voice a bit rough from the long silence.

“I can tell him to leave,” Yeosang whispered, pulling him close. “He’ll understand.”

Wooyoung was quiet for a moment, and he thought for a moment that he might actually give in. But he shook his head slowly.

“No… it’s okay,” he whispered, a hand tugging soothingly at Yeosang’s hair. “We’ve had long enough.”

Yeosang didn’t want him to lose this. He didn’t want him to go back to hurting-

Wooyoung’s head pulled away, a hand taking Yeosang’s gently by the chin, lifting his head to look him in the eyes.

He looked… tired. But the mist and the crimson ribbons were gone, leaving just pale skin and brown eyes that shone through caramel in the sunlight.

Wooyoung gently brushed the hairs from Yeosang’s face, tracing fingers gently. “I’ll be okay,” he said, as if he could read the fears off of Yeosang’s eyes. “Even if…”

His eyes traced across Yeosang’s face, warming and softening.

“Even if I don’t get to keep this… this peace,” he murmured, cupping his jaw. “I still… _have_ _it…_ understand?” he asked, wincing as he realized how little sense it made. “You still… You let me know what it felt like. So I’ll always… have it. In… in my head, you know?”

Yeosang… sort of did.

Like a comforting memory to reflect on. A hopeful past that you prayed might one day become a more permanent future.

“Thank you,” Wooyoung whispered, smiling softly… almost fondly.

Though his lips shook a bit with regret, Yeosang smiled, too- taking Wooyoung’s hand from his face and kissing his knuckles, lips lingering for a moment.

“I’m going to give you that future,” Yeosang promised against the skin. “I’m going to stay until you find it.”

Wooyoung laughed wetly, fingers curling to hold Yeosang’s hand tightly. “And after that?”

“Up to you,” Yeosang said, lips upturned quietly.

Wooyoung kissed him- warm, solid, hot, pulling at Yeosang’s gut dangerously before he pulled away just as quick, both of them breathless.

“I would actually kill you if you walked away,” Wooyoung said, lips tugging up mesmerizingly. “Would you walk away after all your hard work?”

“Your work is harder,” he responded stubbornly.

Wooyoung gave him an unimpressed look that didn’t dim his eyes. “Then reward me at the end,” he murmured firmly. “Give me that… and then stay.”

Yeosang… had known what it was to pledge a friendship for eternity.

He had never known what it was to pledge  _ himself _ to  _ someone _ for eternity. For them to pledge themselves… to him.

He swallowed, trying not to smile so broadly as his heart swelled. “For how long?” Yeosang whispered, just to make Wooyoung lean in, their foreheads resting and eyes ignoring the world in favor of each other.

“Until we fade,” he breathed, eyes earnest and not an ounce of hesitation in them. “Until time takes us. Until you grow tired of me-“

“We’ll just stick with those first two,” Yeosang assured him.

Wooyoung was quiet, just smiling as if he couldn’t think of anything else he’d rather do at the moment.

Seonghwa appeared at the entrance to the lower deck, carefully sticking his head out to look. His expression, at least, was one of deeply regretting needing to interrupt.

Wooyoung ignored him, even when Yeosang glanced beyond Wooyoung at the other.

“Hongjoong wants to… talk and make sure everything is okay,” Seonghwa said quietly, already retreating. “Come find us when you’re… ready.”

Yeosang nodded quickly.

Wooyoung was only staring at Yeosang. Until he lowered his head, laughing silently as he slowly climbed from Yeosang’s lap- making Yeosang miss the solid weight as his attention was divided.

“You make me believe in a future,” Wooyoung murmured as he sat beside Yeosang, getting to his knees and standing.

Already, Yeosang could see the small tensions of reality by his eyes, the way it gathered in the corner of his mouth.

But Wooyoung offered a hand down, not showing these tension in his eyes.

Yeosang took the hand, but didn’t stand immediately. Squeezing it for a moment and staring at Wooyoung in a way he hoped conveyed what he felt. What he wanted. What he promised.

Wooyoung smirked quietly, tugging Yeosang up as he was already turning to the stairs below deck.

There was a certain air of calm about him. But it was already being leached away as they moved.

Yeosang’s jaw tightened but he forced it to loosen. If Wooyoung could use that memory to keep his own peace alive… then Yeosang could use it as his own pillar.

He had given that moment to Wooyoung. He had succeeded in doing that. He had given him enough to continue on. 

That was enough.

It had to be.

~~~~~~~~~

Yeosang was asked to help San and Jongho inspect the outer hull of the ship to make sure their quick getaway hadn’t damaged their new home.

Wooyoung stood in a room that Hongjoong and Seonghwa seemed to have claimed.

Their old ship had been full of books and maps.

The weird thing was that this one was too- but you could tell they were different maps and books.

“We didn’t have time to grab our things,” Hongjoong had said, shrugging nonchalantly. “We can replace them. There was nothing of real value, anyway.”

Wooyoung merely nodded, feeling oddly… numb.

Last night felt like a dream. And he would have fully believed that it was, if he didn’t still have that linger calm in his chest, even if it was fading by the minute. It felt like going from deep sleep to fully awake and trying to function.

He was operating, but it was through a vague haze and just wishing to go back to where you had been before.

“We wanted to talk in private so you wouldn’t feel pressured,” Hongjoong explained, standing and leaning against the wall while Seonghwa sat on the bed.

There was a desk in the corner that had writing supplies on it.

“Pressured…to what?” Wooyoung said carefully, glancing between them.

Wooyoung wasn’t… afraid, per se. But he was nervous. Anxious. A bit jittery…. Even when he was confused, he felt like he knew exactly where Yeosang stood.

And even if a peace had been made, he still couldn’t help but look at Hongjoong and Seonghwa and think of all the things he had done.

“There are only five rooms on this ship,” Seonghwa said, running a hand absently over the dark woolen blanket. “Hongjoong and I have already agreed on this one. That leaves four to split between the six of you.”

“Which means two others will have to share.” Hongjoong jerked his head towards the hall. “San already said he was fine sharing with Yunho, and Mingi and Jongho have already agreed to share, too. If you want, you can have your own room.”

Wooyoung waited for a moment. When Hongjoong didn’t expound, he frowned. “As… opposed to?” he questioned carefully, not really sure where this was supposed to be leading.

“You also have the option of sharing with someone, if you’d like,” Seonghwa explained levelly. “It hasn’t escaped anyone’s notice that you’ve become quite comfortable with Yeosang- even aside from whatever else you may feel for him.”

Even as Wooyoung knew that everyone knew… even as he knew that Seonghwa was the one who had seen him and Yeosang just minutes earlier intertwined like they would fade if parted…

It still made him tense, as if it were some secret he was supposed to be keeping. 

“Yeosang would have no issue with sharing with you,” Hongjoong assured him, inclining his head. “But… even if you do care for Yeosang, even if you’re comfortable with him… you may still want your own space. A place where you can clear your head.”

“You don’t have to share, is what we are trying to say,” Seonghwa continued, waving a gentle hand. “However, if you’d like to… you’re welcome to.”

“Why would I feel pressured?” Wooyoung questioned, crossing his arms slowly- not out of defense, but just as something to do.

“Yeosang calms you,” Hongjoong said without hesitation, shrugging slowly. “If he’s here, you may only see a best case scenario. Or, you might not want to risk hurting his feelings by refusing. We wanted to ask you, on your own, which you’d prefer.”

Wooyoung knew that his situation was… delicate. At best.

It was going to be easy to use Yeosang as a crutch. Like using alcohol to cover the pain of whatever you were feeling. 

Half of Wooyoung told him to room alone. They’d seen what he was capable of doing to a room. He didn’t want to expose Yeosang to that.

But the other half… knew that Yeosang was very good at aiding Wooyoung, but not allowing himself to become a crutch. Slowing Wooyoung when he tried to go too far, refusing to give in to the little things Wooyoung wanted handed on a platter, making Wooyoung work for and face the things he never wanted to acknowledge…

“I’d… like to share,” Wooyoung said carefully. “I think…” He shook his head. “Even aside from thinking it might help me, I just want… to…”

Hongjoong and Seonghwa were both staring at him.

Wooyoung swallowed, shoulders tense.

He wanted Yeosang. 

Not Yeosang’s power or comfort… Just Yeosang. 

Hongjoong’s lips turned up in amusement. “Yeah,” he said, voice oddly fond. “I know.”

Wooyoung was suddenly very aware of the tension in the air. Not a bad tension- but rather, the sort of tension that comes from a string connecting two individuals, taut and tight and unbreakable.

Hongjoong and Seonghwa stood across the room from each other. Ten feet or more separated them.

But Wooyoung could almost  _ see _ the way their gravities mixed. Their constant presence in and around each other, intertwined in a way that was unbreakable, even though they made no contact.

He could practically feel the way they touched without touching.

_ Horizon,  _ his mind whispered as he stared at them.

Hongjoong and Seonghwa, of anyone, knew what Wooyoung was doing, even more than Wooyoung himself. They had practiced and perfected the art… of loving someone. Wooyoung had seen, but hadn’t understood, that since the beginning.

Looking at Hongjoong, he could still feel Seonghwa. And looking at Seonghwa made it feel as if Hongjoong were smirking right beside him.

“You’re scared,” Seonghwa said quietly, expression oddly soft. “That’s normal. You’ll learn each other enough that it’ll fade with time.”

Wooyoung got the vaguest sensation of the times when he thought Yeosang was staring straight into his soul.

He just wanted to be near Yeosang. Not because he was seeking that calm again, not because he wanted that peace…

He just… wanted Yeosang.

“We watched you a bit,” Hongjoong confessed, leaning heavier on the wall, expression an odd mixture of drawn and gentle. “Love manifested last night, didn’t it?”

Wooyoung nodded slowly, the ghost sensation of that mist that almost tickling, stinging a bit, but nothing compared the tearing pain of the lightning that usually appeared.

The way that Yeosang… had looked at the mist… the almost delight in his eyes… as if he were looking at something marvelous…

Wooyoung was learning to cope with his elements. It was still a stunning, breath-taking thing to see someone look at them like that.

“You love him?” Seonghwa asked bluntly, though not unkindly. He tilted his head, lips quirking up like he already knew the answer to his question.

Wooyoung was sure he did. Because Wooyoung felt like it was something that shone from his skin like the mist curling around the two of them. But he nodded anyway.

Hongjoong chuckled quietly, shaking his head. “I would have thrown someone overboard if they suggested that War was going to fall in love with Yeosang.”

“War didn’t,” Wooyoung said firmly, eyes hardening slightly as Hongjoong paused. “I did.”

It felt… weird, the urge to correct that, in the way that Yeosang had corrected him so often. He was not War or Love. He was Wooyoung.

Hongjoong stared at him, surprised as he blinked, before his expression softened into something that was most definitely radiating pride.

“That’s good,” Hongjoong said gently, smiling softly at Wooyoung.

He felt a buzz shoot up his spine, making him shift as he glanced at Seonghwa who was smiling more broadly than Hongjoong, eyes shining.

Wooyoung’s stomach felt sick.

“I’m sorry,” he said quickly. “For what I did… before. Back then-“

“Don’t,” Hongjoong said firmly, shaking his head. “You already apologized.”

“I didn’t realize-“

“You didn’t,” Seonghwa said, nodding. “That’s why we’ve moved on. We aren’t the same people we were then. You aren’t, either. You’re not even the same person you were when you stepped on this boat.” He smirked knowingly. “All of us have changed or grown, Wooyoung.”

“We accepted you onto this ship,” Hongjoong said firmly, pushing off of the wall. “Maybe, in the beginning, it was for the wrong reasons. But you proved yourself, Wooyoung. You proved that you were willing to change.”

Wooyoung shifted, his skin feeling too tight as a dull buzz collected at the small of his back.

“You found reasons to live, to change… You made the choice to push yourself.”

Hongjoong was standing before Wooyoung, and even if they were a similar height, Wooyoung still felt the urge to look up.

“You’ve done marvelously, Wooyoung,” Hongjoong said quietly, expression earnest. “In weeks, you’ve practically torn yourself apart and shoved it back together.”

Wooyoung winced as the buzz shot up his spine as Hongjoong laid a warm hand on his shoulder, squeezing it firmly.

“Leave guilt behind,” Hongjoong said quietly. “You’ve got enough of it. Give yourself time to put yourself back together after everything you’ve been through.”

Wooyoung stared at him, eyes slightly widening as Seonghwa suddenly stood beside Hongjoong, smiling quietly at him.

The buzz grew stronger and Wooyoung’s eyes began to burn as he stared helplessly.

“Focus on yourself right now, Wooyoung,” he said warmly. “The fighting, the future, everything else- it can wait until you’re sorted. We’ll  _ make sure _ it waits.”

Wooyoung knew that Hongjoong and Seonghwa had moved on from their past together.

He knew that they had accepted him as part of this crew of companions.

He knew that they cared about whether or not he was happy or sane.

He knew that they were willing to risk themselves for him.

But this was the first time… that he felt in his chest that they looked at him and saw nothing more than one of their own.

The pins and needles washed over him, making him flinch slightly, but his eyes burned as he stared between the two of them. It was different from the sensation from Yeosang. But, then again, this form of love was very different.

Just as powerful, but tangibly different.

Seonghwa chuckled quietly, petting Wooyoung’s hair thrice before removing his hand and stepping away.

“Yeosang is special,” he said, shrugging as if it couldn’t be helped. “You can’t help but fall for him, even if you did it a bit differently from the rest of us.” An amused smirk was thrown his way. “But I guess you’re pretty special, too, aren’t you?”

“I’m not,” he answered flatly.

Hongjoong chuckled, removing his hand. “Yeosang wouldn’t be looking at you like that if you weren’t,” he assured him, stepping away.

Wooyoung believed Yeosang… He tried to believe them, too.

“I was worried,” Hongjoong confessed, leaning back against the wall, expression gentle. “I was concerned with how volatile you were and how willing Yeosang was to risk everything for you.”

Wooyoung winced. Hongjoong smiled.

“But then… you were willing to risk everything for him too, weren’t you?” He smirked. “And it never occurred to me that that would be what you needed,” he admitted quietly. “Someone who was willing to risk it all.” Hongjoong nodded. “I’m proud of Yeosang for what he became for you.” His eyes softened. “And I’m proud of you for letting him in.”

Wooyoung didn’t move, like a hunter’s sights were trained on him.

His stomach was a whirlwind of pins and needles, calm, anxiety, warmth, ice, and sickening dread at the future while bubbling with hope at the present.

“I’m… glad I did,” Wooyoung managed to admit, throat feeling thick. “He…”

Wooyoung remembered the smile that had stolen his lips last night, uncontrollable and almost giddy. Like he was getting drunk on the moonlight that Yeosang’s skin felt like.

“He’s…”

The memory of how they shared words, kisses, tears, reassurances. Yeosang’s eyes looking at Wooyoung as if he had hung the moon that gave him his life.

“I…”

The utter… peace Wooyoung had felt. As if the entire world and all his problems had melted away under Yeosang’s presence, giving him a freedom the likes of which he had never known.

One he thought he could never know.

There were a million things Yeosang made Wooyoung feel. A million things he had done for Wooyoung.

A million things Wooyoung wanted to spend the rest of a very long life repaying over and over.

His throat caught as he closed his lips tightly, eyes stinging.

Seonghwa smiled, leaning his hands back on the bed, eyes shimmering to match Hongjoong’s empathetic smile.

Yeosang was indescribable. 

“I know,” Seonghwa whispered, voice also a bit thick.

Glancing between the two of them, Wooyoung believed that he did.

~~~~~~~~~

Wooyoung stared into the room, a blanket from the storage room in his arms.

His room.

Their room.

There was one, large bed against the wall- twice as big as Wooyoung’s had been on the old ship.

Wooyoung stared at the bed they would share, remembering the charred, burnt mattress and wood that his last resting place had become.

Perhaps this wasn’t the best idea.

He took a step back, turning to find Hongjoong or Seonghwa, because maybe he had still been a bit too optimistic. He had destroyed his room last time, destroyed half the ship only days ago- living in such close quarters was not-

He bumped directly into Yeosang who was trying to get into the room as Wooyoung tried to get out.

They both startled for a moment, staring in shock, but Yeosang’s surprise faded quicker than Wooyoung’s, eyes softening. “It’s nice, isn’t it?” he asked, glancing around Wooyoung into the room.

Maybe… Maybe being around Yeosang was a little dangerous.

Because just seconds ago, he was thinking of all the things that could- and had- gone wrong.

But then Yeosang showed up… and Wooyoung couldn’t even imagine feeling that sort of turmoil again. And maybe that was a bit dangerous.

Yeosang, however, seemed to see straight through Wooyoung. “If you’re really worried… you don’t have to share,” he said gently, hand shifting like it was about to reach out to him, but drawing back before it did. “We can double up in other rooms. There’s plenty of blankets and mats to make beds out of.”

If anything, Wooyoung would make a mat to sleep on, rather than forcing one of the others to take one.

But… he was worried.

But Hongjoong and Seonghwa knew everything Wooyoung had done and destroyed. They were still willing to let him share a cabin… 

They… trusted him to share the cabin.

“What if we just test it out,” Yeosang suggested when Wooyoung still made no reply, his hand reaching out and squeezing Wooyoung’s arm gently. “If, after a few days, you find that it’s too claustrophobic, or you don’t want it… we can switch out. Okay?” He smiled quietly.

Wooyoung nodded slowly, guided like a kite on a string.

Yeosang was magnetic. And the worst part of it was that Wooyoung knew he was, and he wasn’t really doing much to fight it.

Well, why the hell should he fight it?

“Which side of the bed do you want?” Yeosang asked, stepping beside Wooyoung and entering the room with his blanket. “I don’t tend to use it much, but I like to come lay down during the day sometimes…”

Yeosang glanced back at Wooyoung with gentle eyes that almost seemed excited for the room.

“But I don’t particularly care which side. So you can pick,” he assured him.

Wooyoung managed to snap himself out of his mindless staring as he walked back into the room. “I don’t mind either side,” he said quickly, standing next to Yeosang beside the bed.

Yeosang chuckled at their indecision.

And Wooyoung’s heart lurched at the memory of only a few hours ago of Yeosang sobbing because he wanted to love Wooyoung and was ashamed of it.

“Well, then, just pick a side,” Yeosang urged, gesturing to the bed.

No. Not ashamed of loving Wooyoung. But of making a decision to love him one way, and realizing that he would have regrets if he loved him another way.

Wooyoung couldn’t really be bothered by that fact because… like Yeosang, he may regret losing this. But he would be willing to return to what they were before.

But he had no intention of being the one to turn them back to that. And he didn’t think Yeosang did, either.

Yeosang was still staring at Wooyoung, waiting for him to pick, lips upturned and amused- but never losing the softness around the edges of it all.

A wave of pins and needles shot up his spine, and Wooyoung lurched forward, but stepped back just as quickly, jaw tightening-

Yeosang’s expression blinked but softened once more. “You can,” was all he said quietly, a hand floating towards Wooyoung in invitation.

But Wooyoung shook his head firmly, hanging it low and tossing his blanket onto the left side of the bed. “I’ll take that one,” he muttered, skin burning as he crossed around to the opposite side of the bed.

He didn’t look up at Yeosang, unfolding his blanket with utterly too much focus.

Wooyoung was… still trying to sort things out. And he was beginning to get tired of not being able to discern certain parts of himself from his element.

(All of this seemed so much simpler when everything had boiled down to just him and Yeosang existing together. Where it didn’t matter who felt what because it was only the two of them.)

The calm from last night he left. And while Yeosang was a good focusing point, Wooyoung felt unsteady again. 

Frustrated and annoyed at himself and his elements… 

Because there were most definitely times when Love was roaring through his blood, and urging him to kiss Yeosang, hold him, move closer to him-  _ something _ \- was nearly overwhelming.

But he also knew that he  _ himself _ wanted to do all those things to Yeosang. 

Almost constantly, there was a tug in his gut to do those things. Yeosang had pointed out wanting the things Love wanted and refusing the things War wanted…

But more than feeling guilt at Love’s intentions not being his own… he wanted to be able to know exactly when it was him creating those feelings.

Love shot up his spine, and Wooyoung felt the urge to kiss Yeosang who was just standing there and smiling at him like he had nothing better to do in all the world.

He wanted to know if he wanted those things because of Love, or if he wanted them and Love happened to be manifesting at the same time. What caused what? Was it even possible to really distinguish the two?

Was there… really any difference between them… at all?

“Do you want me to leave?” Yeosang offered quietly.

“It’s your room, too,” Wooyoung replied stiffly, a constant ball of pins gathering at the small of his back uncomfortably.

“I didn’t ask whose room it was.” 

Wooyoung jumped when Yeosang’s voice was suddenly closer, having crossed around to the other side of the bed and standing a few feet from Wooyoung.

His expression wasn’t quite so bright- a little cloud of sadness gathered in the corner of his eyes that still shone, though.

“I asked if you wanted me to leave,” he murmured as Wooyoung stared like a startled cat. “Do you want some time to settle? Or go up to the deck?” he offered.

It seemed like communicating with Wooyoung had to be done in multiple choice.

Wooyoung didn’t know  _ why _ it was so hard to say things. Why he needed to feel so utterly consumed by calm to even attempt to voice a single thing. He didn’t know why he couldn’t think of a single thing he wanted, when he was asked.

He didn’t know why he didn’t know  _ what _ he wanted.

It wasn’t even as if he struggled to think of things- it was just that his mind seemed incapable of  _ thinking. _ There was no buzz or static distracting him, there was just  _ nothing- _

Yeosang’s cool hand touched his heated skin, and Wooyoung jumped, once more snapping back into reality as Yeosang smiled sadly at him.

“Do you want to lay down for a minute?” he asked, voice lofty and airy and quiet.

Wooyoung knew that Yeosang had said that he couldn’t empathize- that he never could experience the things Wooyoung went through, and so he couldn’t understand him completely.

But every time Wooyoung looked into Yeosang’s eyes, it felt like Yeosang was feeling every ache and stormy rage that bounced around inside of Wooyoung.

Out of the options- being alone, going up with the others, or staying here- Wooyoung felt like one of those was least dangerous.

Maybe that was the key. Maybe Wooyoung just needed to think more strategically- avoiding the others when he was feeling rocky like this, secluding himself when he felt the urge to lash out… seeking people out when he felt like he was losing himself…

Why was it all so  _ hard? _

Wooyoung swallowed, tearing his eyes away from Yeosang’s silvery ones. “Sure,” he said, voice raspy as he tugged his arm away and didn’t even bother arranging his blankets before kicking off his boots and climbing onto the bed.

He stared at the grey cloth of the mattress, his back turned to Yeosang stiffly.

He didn’t know…  _ why. _ He and Yeosang were close, he loved him, he wasn’t angry with Yeosang-

He wasn’t angry or upset right now, he was  _ conflicted _ , and it was making him sick.

So why was he  _ treating  _ him like this? Why was it so hard to just have a simple conversation and  _ say what he wanted- _

Yeosang’s hand touched his shoulder- just the fingertips, and only with enough pressure to barely let Wooyoung know he was there.

“Do you want me to leave?” he murmured, like Wooyoung was already asleep. “Or… do you want some company?”

Wooyoung always wanted Yeosang’s company. Even when he ignored it, there was something- in the pit of his stomach- that was twisting itself in knots, frantically yearning for the proximity they had the night before.

After the peace he had felt last night…

He had said that having that memory was enough to keep hope alive. And it was.

But it was like sticking your hand in icy water and then running lukewarm water over it- the contrast making even the slight turbulence in his head seem like a thunderstorm throwing him around-

“Wooyoung,” Yeosang said, poking his shoulder gently but with more force.

Wooyoung stiffened, shaking his head that kept forgetting Yeosang was even there, too caught up in itself.

Wooyoung curled up around his stomach- like that was his most vulnerable point- as he tucked his head against the pillow like a child trying to hide from something.

There was a pause where neither said anything, Wooyoung’s tongue working inside his mouth, tasting bitter, as he clenched his eyes shut.

Just as Wooyoung began opening his mouth, he felt Yeosang’s hand beginning to draw away ever so slowly.

“Stay,” he murmured, muffled by the mattress and position, the single word burning his lips as his body moved with the wave of buzzing running up his spine.

Yeosang’s hand stopped leaving. “Do you want me to touch you?” he questioned gently, the hand drawing soft circles on Wooyoung’s shoulder.

Wooyoung didn’t know if there would ever be a time when he didn’t want Yeosang’s touch.

Yeosang waited while Wooyoung practically choked on the words.

“You can,” was all he said, curling up tighter, wondering what Yeosang’s expression was.

The hand on his shoulder disappeared, and even though the touch was cool, Wooyoung shivered like a trickle of ice water going down his back.

“Shift forward a bit,” Yeosang murmured, tapping Wooyoung’s back softly.

Wooyoung didn’t feel like bothering to question it- shifting forward while still remaining curled up. He must look pathetic, like a foolish child or a frightened animal-

Wooyoung couldn’t stop the audible gasp that ripped from his mouth as Yeosang’s chest pressed to his back, legs knocking as one of Yeosang’s arm was gently placed over Wooyoung’s waist.

He stiffened, taken aback by the sudden proximity- the position one where Wooyoung felt Yeosang  _ everywhere. _ If he tilted his head back, he could feel him- down his back in a warm line, their legs slightly tangled, his arm solid around Wooyoung’s waist-

Yeosang paused. “Is this… okay?” he whispered, breath tickling Wooyoung’s ear.

Wooyoung shifted slightly- not to shake him off- but almost testing to see how much of him he could feel.

Wooyoung had thought being close to Yeosang before was like being wrapped in a blanket of moonlight- something all-surrounding and heavy, but undeniably comforting.

He lay still but slowly relaxed from his surprise, swallowing as he stared at the threads of the pillow beneath his head.

It felt nice.

Yeosang asked him if it was okay, why did it feel like it would kill him to just  _ tell him- _

Yeosang must have taken his relaxation as a ‘yes.’ He released a quiet breath, also relaxing against Wooyoung.

He hadn’t realized how tensed Yeosang was until he slowly molded to Wooyoung’s back until he couldn’t tell if there was a single millimeter of space between them. Despite the coolness of his body, it created a warm line across Wooyoung’s back as his eyes shut.

Yeosang’s arm curled around him a bit, holding around his stomach gently but firm enough that Wooyoung felt… secure.

Despite Yeosang’s wiry frame, the presence behind him felt solid- like he could lean into it, like it was pinning him down from blowing away…

Almost involuntarily, Wooyoung shifted back slightly, uncurling just a little.

Behind his eyelids, Wooyoung stared at darkness. But he could feel everything so clearly- every breath from Yeosang that pushed his chest closer, every shift of their legs or arms, the tiny, soothing circles Yeosang rubbed almost absentmindedly into Wooyoung’s stomach.

He didn’t know how much time was passing. Whether it was only seconds or hours.

He felt… softened. Pliant. Like a cat curled up in a sunspot.

He didn’t feel at peace, necessarily. He still felt floaty, even if his body was grounded, but he felt…

Yeosang’s arm tightened around him slightly when Wooyoung began to curl slightly.

He felt… safe.

Safe…

Wooyoung cracked his eyes open, feeling Yeosang’s heart beating slow and rhythmic against his back. He swallowed, gritting his teeth as he bit the bullet, leaning back more solidly into Yeosang’s chest.

The arms tightened further- not restrictive, but… comforting.

Wooyoung closed his eyes, focusing on their breathing that aligned. 

Safe…

That was a new one.

He shivered lightly when Yeosang pressed the faintest of kisses to the spot just behind Wooyoung’s ear, relaxing fully behind him as if he intended to sleep just like this.

They didn’t sleep.

But for once, Wooyoung didn’t want to- too focused on every microscopic point that Yeosang was touching that thrummed beneath his touch, his skin buzzing pleasantly at each contact point.

But that… that wasn’t what Love felt like.

And in that moment, he was sure… that was all Wooyoung. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading!!  
> I really enjoyed this chapter, and I’m excited for the next one, too!  
> I hope nothing feels too choppy or unintelligible~ Please let me know what you think!  
> I hope you all stay safe and healthy!!  
> -SS


	6. Anger and Devotion (The Kind That Heals)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The final full chapter ㅠㅠㅠ   
> I’m so sorry to be closing out this story, but I’ve had so much fun, and I’m so grateful to everyone whose given so much love to this fic!!   
> I hope you all enjoy this chapter, and that you’ll look forward to the epilogue!   
> You guys have been unbelievable!   
> I hope you’re all safe and healthy, and please let me know what you think!!   
> -SS

The larger the bucket… the longer it takes all the water it’s filled with to leak out.

The more powerful the god… the longer it takes for excess power to be removed.

And the more painful the process.

The following months were an uphill battle of Wooyoung’s body and godly elements warring for dominance and control.

There is no war more violent than the one waged against self. 

But the more support given, the more Love received, the more joy felt… the easier the process. 

Minimally easier. 

Sort of easier. 

Just a bit easier. 

Growth was easier with that support, even if the pain could be helped very little. 

Wooyoung grew quickly, but pain was not so easily cured. 

There were days when Yeosang was so utterly sure that Wooyoung had gotten control over it, that the smile on his face was bright enough, that his speech was light enough, that his body was relaxed enough… 

Surely, he had finally reached a point where he could be happy.

And then there were days upon days that the seven of them worked frantically to tear Wooyoung away from the edge he kept stumbling towards.

They were gods. Time meant very little to them- things like months and years passed like seconds.

But for once in his very long life, Yeosang felt every singular day drag by in a battle that he was mostly helpless in.

He couldn’t keep sending Wooyoung unconscious or forcing him to relax- Wooyoung had to learn to operate without Yeosang as a crutch. Yeosang was reserved only for a moment when they realized things were about to come crashing down.

Yeosang was still needed more than anyone was comfortable with.

Wooyoung’s body was slowly ridding itself of the unneeded power, and his elements were still frightened and demanding more- like an addict frantically grabbing at its hoard.

There were days when Wooyoung paced the ship- skin heated and eyes flickering red as he shook his head like voices were whispering; almost seeming possessed. They left him alone, unless he asked for help. 

And there were days when he shoved Yeosang from their room, slamming the door and raging inside of it for a few hours (with time, furniture was no longer destroyed, only scorched). There was no other furniture but the bed, and Yeosang got used to the singed scent of burnt fabric that clung to it.

And then there were days (usually after those rages) when Wooyoung was too weak to speak, much less move. He wouldn’t quite sleep, but he couldn’t quite find peace… 

Yeosang was careful to stay by him on those days, watching like a hawk in fear of blinking and Wooyoung just… disappearing in his weakness. 

Today was one of those days.

Yeosang knelt on the deck with Wooyoung’s head resting in his lap as he slowly stroked through his damp hair.

It was raining gently- nothing more than a heavy mist- but Wooyoung had wanted to remain outside- too claustrophobic below deck. He wasn’t asleep, Yeosang could tell, but he had finally, after hours, stopped shifting and squirming and his face stopped pinching in discomfort.

Yeosang stared at him quietly, watching how the rain droplets clung to his skin and slid off- both of them slightly damp from the weather. Yeosang took a moment to wipe away some of the wet with his equally damp sleeve.

Wooyoung hand, which was resting on his stomach, twitched.

Things had somehow changed tremendously and stayed the same over time.

The peaceful memory of that night a year ago was still bright and vibrant in Yeosang’s mind. The night when Wooyoung had found a peace he’d never known… The memory of comfort and peace shone as vivid as the mist of Love that had manifested that night. 

But sometimes, it only served as a painful reminder of how far they had to go.

A year had never felt so long.

But one thing they had built over the year was an understanding. Yeosang had learned to read Wooyoung in the special way the two of them had never really verbally worked out.

Articulation was hardest for Wooyoung. 

Yeosang learned to understand all the things he couldn’t quite bring himself to say. 

Or, in this instance, the things he physically did not have the strength to say. 

And so, Yeosang didn’t hesitate, when he saw Wooyoung’s hand twitch, to reach out and grab it firmly, squeezing it comfortingly while Wooyoung remained as still as death in his lap.

His skin was cold- far from the fiery, feverish skin that he usually held.

“Do you want me to get a blanket?” Yeosang asked, rubbing his thumb in circles over Wooyoung’s hand.

No part of Wooyoung made any attempt to move. Which meant no.

Yeosang’s lips upturned in a sad smile. “Do you want me to ask someone else to get a blanket?”

There was a pause before the barest twitch of Wooyoung’s fingers shifted inside Yeosang’s hand. Which meant yes.

Yeosang lifted his head, gently squeezing his hand in response as he glanced around the deck. Most everyone was downstairs… Jongho was up in the crow’s nest, but he’d never hear Yeosang-

Like a miracle, Seonghwa appeared coming up the stairs, and all it took was a quick request from Yeosang to have him turning around with a regretful glance at Wooyoung.

He dipped his head, pressing a cold-lipped kiss to Wooyoung’s palm, holding it for a moment as Wooyoung’s eyes managed to flutter open to barely be able to see him.

Yeosang’s heart wrenched as Wooyoung’s fingers curled slowly, fingertips brushing Yeosang’s cheek in the only response he could give. Yeosang kissed his fingertips, too.

Wooyoung had gotten better at… sensing things, over time.

He still struggled to control himself, and even when he did control himself, it was at the cost of almost all of his energy (leaving him like he was now). But Wooyoung had gotten extremely good at sensing when something was about to happen or go wrong.

Maybe he couldn’t stop the outbursts or rages, but he got better at feeling them coming- warning or requesting whatever he knew he needed to help it pass. 

Sometimes, that was space. Sometimes, it was a body- any body- to cling to. 

Yeosang continued stroking his hair as Seonghwa brought the blanket, helping Yeosang wrap it around Wooyoung as best they could.

“We need to stop by a port,” Seonghwa said as he knelt and tucked the blanket up to Wooyoung’s neck. “Hongjoong, Yunho, Mingi, and I are going to take one of the boats. We should be close enough in a couple of days.”

Yeosang nodded, humming quietly.

They had worked out a similar system to how they had acquired their new ship.

They would pull close enough to a port to be reasonable, but far enough away to leave Wooyoung mostly unaffected. A few would head out in boats, gather their supplies, and head back while they waited.

Seonghwa spent a few minutes with them, a gentle hand resting on Wooyoung’s legs as he stared up at the falling mist that slowly began to change into droplets.

Yeosang shook his wet bangs out of his eyes, gingerly wiping away the droplets he got on Wooyoung, whose eyes had fallen shut again.

“It’s beginning to rain harder,” Seonghwa murmured, looking carefully at Yeosang. “We should at least bring him under cover.” 

Yeosang glanced down at Wooyoung who squeezed his hand as hard as he could manage- which was akin to placing a pillow atop it.

“We can bring him back to our room,” Yeosang said, regretfully removing his hands.

It wasn’t that Yeosang couldn’t carry Wooyoung, but as soon as Seonghwa lifted him up with an arm behind his back and knees, Yeosang realized just how numb his legs were from sitting in this position for hours.

He stumbled after Seonghwa, wincing and rubbing out the soreness in his knees that would fade soon.

Seonghwa laid Wooyoung down, keeping the blanket tucked around him and laying their shared one over him as well.

The other didn’t so much as twitch, damp hair splayed over the pillow and head fallen to the side, too weak to even hold it up.

Yeosang hated this more than he could ever hate the rages.

The rages could be calmed- Yeosang had grown used to grounding Wooyoung and comforting him in the aftermath. It was these weakened states that he was most helpless in- where Wooyoung could barely respond, and Yeosang was scared to leave his side for fear that he may just be… gone when he got back.

Physically… Wooyoung was fighting what sometimes looked to be a losing battle.

Emotionally, mentally… Yeosang could easily break down in sobs every time he realized just how far Wooyoung had come. How much he wanted to live now, how ingrained what they had been teaching him had become.

Wooyoung knew- at all times, other than in the very deepest parts of his rages- that he was  _ Wooyoung _ . He knew that Love and War were a part of him, but were not all of him.

Wooyoung had learned this. He believed this. They taught this to him. 

Wooyoung knew this, and by all the gods did Yeosang spend every day marveling at the distance they had traveled.

That, perhaps, was the only thing keeping him from losing hope on days when it was bad.

That… and how determined Wooyoung seemed to be that they would reach that peace they always talked about.

It was always a bit hard to be with Wooyoung when he was like this- when Yeosang couldn’t get very clear responses for what he needed or didn’t want. Even now, it was still trial and error, though Yeosang had gotten quite good at reading things correctly.

Their system required Wooyoung to be strong enough to actually squeeze Yeosang’s hand, which sometimes he wasn’t. 

At times like that, it was even more of a guessing game. 

Today, Wooyoung had been relatively calm, and in the past couple of hours, he had stopped twitching and frowning, but he had been reluctant to have Yeosang leave, before.

So, he wasn’t panicking or in pain, but (as always) he didn’t want to be left alone like this. 

So, Yeosang took all of those into consideration as he climbed onto the bed, his back resting against the headboard and legs stretched out. Carefully, he reached over and tugged Wooyoung over until he flipped onto his stomach, head still resting in Yeosang’s lap and arm thrown over his leg.

Yeosang waited, placing his hand on Wooyoung’s back- observing everything from his breathing to his expression to his stiffness- waiting for any sort of negative response.

There was a gentle squeeze, longer than usual, from Wooyoung, and Yeosang relaxed against the bed at the go-ahead. He resumed stroking his hair, trying to free it of its dampness, and listened to the quiet breaths passing through Wooyoung.

Yeosang could almost convince himself that this was Wooyoung being at peace, and not being so exhausted, he couldn’t even speak.

But it wasn’t really useful to try and convince himself of that, was it? 

~~~~~~~~~~

The cycle continued- whipping back and forth between extremes that nearly tore the ship apart or had Wooyoung immobile for hours.

Recently, they had operated only at extremes. Wooyoung was fine until he wasn’t- expelling rages of energy and then falling almost deathly weak. And then he continued to operate normally, after the extremes had passed. 

Sometimes… sometimes there was a middle ground.

Days when they were all allowed a breath. Days- that were more common than not- where everyone was sane and in control and happy.

Wooyoung liked those days.

The days where it wasn’t a struggle to remember his own name, where he didn’t have to cling to Yeosang- or one of the others- just to feel like he wasn’t floating away. Where he could laugh a little as they all sat on deck.

Where he could feel the buzzing of Love thrumming through his veins, but he ignored it for the warmth of love flooding his chest.

San liked to poke him. Not for attention or for… any reason, it seemed. He just liked sitting or standing beside Wooyoung while they were all talking and just… poke him.

Wooyoung didn’t get it, but San acted as if it was the most amusing thing ever, grinning like he had just heard the world’s funniest joke.

Wooyoung learned to roll with it.

Jongho liked glaring at him until Wooyoung would finally lift an eyebrow and ask what he wanted, and then he simply smirked like he had won something and walk away.

Wooyoung didn’t really understand, but he went with it.

Hongjoong and Seonghwa… they treated Wooyoung like… like he belonged here.

Mingi and Yunho liked to nudge him around, and Seonghwa liked to tap his head as he passed, and Hongjoong was always sitting at a distance…

For a while, Wooyoung thought Hongjoong was simply ignoring him, but then Yeosang laughed and told him to check his back every now and then.

And what Wooyoung saw was Hongjoong sitting up on a rail or by the helm, watching them all- watching  _ Wooyoung _ . And the content smile on his face… made Wooyoung pause.

Hongjoong looked at Wooyoung with gentle pride. 

Wooyoung very vividly remembered a time not even a flash of time ago, to them, where Hongjoong had been someone who cursed his existence.

Wooyoung had cursed his own existence.

And while a year was nothing to them, Wooyoung felt every minute of it dragging by as he clawed his way through his own body, like tearing a shack apart to rebuild it stronger.

Was this what mortals felt like? Such a short amount of time, stretching until even a year seemed like an eternity?

He didn’t… hate it.

He liked that time was slowing down. It felt less disorienting. 

Wooyoung struggled. He cursed and wanted to throw himself into a sea a lot, tossing back and forth between losing himself and feeling so weak, it was as if he was about to fade away.

Those were the moments that he felt the least alone, though.

Yeosang was always there.

No always physically helping, like he was capable of. At first, Wooyoung thought Yeosang was constantly trying to help feed him power to calm him, but Yeosang swore he hadn’t done anything.

It took a late-night conversation with Seonghwa in the crow’s nest for Wooyoung to realize that maybe he just liked having Yeosang close.

And he did like that very much.

It used to be overwhelming- having Yeosang touch him or lay with him (which he did often and freely). It was a constant overload of his own feelings and sensations, and the uncontrollable buzzing tearing its way through him.

Since that realization, though, the overflow of emotions hadn’t lessened at all. But Wooyoung had gotten used to the intensity that came with having Yeosang near him.

He came to almost enjoy the way his entire blood supply seemed to jump when Yeosang smiled at him in passing. It was much more pleasant than Love or War arguing back and forth. 

Yeosang was louder than Love and War combined. 

Part of him hated the fact that kissing Yeosang could ground him. It felt wrong to use something like that for it. That was supposed to be… to be special. A… a sign or symbol of how much Yeosang meant to him, how much Wooyoung loved him-

Yeosang had held his face, smiling quietly in the darkness of their room as quiet eyes locked onto Wooyoung’s.  _ “Who says it’s not still a symbol? Do you think I stop loving you when you lose control?” _

(Despite both of them thinking they wouldn’t use the room often, they spent a large portion of time together in it. Wooyoung liked having their own space.) 

There was a time when Wooyoung thought that living his life confined to a single space would drive him insane faster than War ever would.

But Wooyoung lay in bed, and Yeosang lay beside him… and Wooyoung could imagine staying for here the rest of his existence.

(Yeosang would whisper that Wooyoung could.) 

He had quickly discovered that there were fewer places he preferred to be than in Yeosang’s arms.

(Not in the disgusting way that Hongjoong liked to talk about Seonghwa. Wooyoung liked Yeosang in a more… sophisticated way. That’s what he always told them.) 

Yeosang was…

It took so long, but Wooyoung realized…

_ “The North Star…” _

_ Yeosang paused where his arms were wrapped around Wooyoung who was sitting between his legs, his hand stilling where it had been slowly stroking through Wooyoung’s hair. “What?” he chuckled, amused. _

_ It was a rare moment of… real peace. Not just control or distracting himself. A moment where Wooyoung was a blissful middle-ground between fidgety and weakened. One where he felt like he could lay still forever but was coherent enough to enjoy the gentle buzzing traveling up his spine. _

_ “You’re not the Moon,” Wooyoung murmured, lips twitching. “You’re the North Star.” _

_ Yeosang laughed. “How do you mean?” _

_ “Reliable,” he said quietly. “Guiding… patient-“ _

_ “How can a star be patient?” Yeosang chuckled, squeezing Wooyoung gently and sending a shock up his spine. _

_ “It stays there the whole time, doesn’t it?” Wooyoung asked, smiling gently. “It doesn’t give up on you just because you still got lost, even if it already told you where to go…” _

_ There was a long moment, Wooyoung staring at the brightest star and getting lost for a moment before Yeosang spoke. _

_ “You can never complain about Hongjoong and Seonghwa being insufferably endearing ever again.” _

_ Wooyoung sighed roughly, chuckling as he turned to glare at Yeosang- _

_ Yeosang kissed him, smooth and quick, pulling away and caressing his cheek gently, eyes sparkling with the millions of stars above them. _

_ “I’ll be your North Star,” he murmured, light shining through his eyes brightly, making Wooyoung’s lungs fail for a moment. “And one day you’ll learn the path well enough to walk it on your own.” _

_ “I don’t want to walk it on my own,” Wooyoung rasped, laying a gentle hand over Yeosang’s. _

_ His smile grew warmer, eyes scrunching. “I’ll still walk it with you… but you won’t have to follow anymore. We’ll just walk it together.” _

Wooyoung was happy to follow him.

Even if Wooyoung  _ knew _ the path he was supposed to take, it was another matter to walk it on his own. He wasn’t strong enough yet.

He would be, one day, though. That, he had learned to believe with Yeosang’s help.

Wooyoung knew he loved Yeosang. 

The type of love that it was was hard to identify at time. How deep it went, how exactly to describe it… He couldn’t find the words to even really call it love.

A magnetic attraction was more accurate. 

When they touched- polar opposites- they stuck together until something physically forced them apart, but if they got close enough, they could feel the gentle pull of the forces between them- whatever forces kept Wooyoung glance for him out of the corner of his eye.

Whatever forces kept Yeosang smiling at Wooyoung like it was the first time he heard Wooyoung say his own name.

Whatever forces kept Wooyoung feeling like he carried weights upon weights on his chest all throughout the day, only allowing them to drop in the moments when he dragged Yeosang to their bed, laying intertwined until he could breathe again.

Yeosang would touch him wherever he could reach, he would stroke his hair or rub his arm gently, stroking up and down his back, laying a cool hand against his hip…

Wooyoung soaked up each touch like a burn cream to his heated skin. Something so inherently and instantly soothing and comforting in the gentle touches that Yeosang gave as naturally as breathing- all of them dripping with Love that Wooyoung had come to associate with everyone on the ship- but this brand of it specifically was Yeosang’s.

The kind that gathered in a bundle in the small of his back and slowly spread throughout his nerves- buzzing, and then warming like a flickering flame, despite his heated body.

Wooyoung loved to be with Yeosang.

( _ Yeosang chuckled, pressing a gentle kiss to Wooyoung’s temple. “I love being able to see you, too.”) _

But he hated the strain and stress he brought to them all- including Yeosang.

~~~~~~~~

Wooyoung felt like he was vomiting.

He knew he wasn’t- knew it was just waves of lightning and red mist rolling off of his body that was curled up on the ground, jerking and twitching as he felt Seonghwa and San’s hands holding onto him, keeping him from thrashing around.

He could sense Yeosang sitting in front of him.

Even though his voice was gentle, Wooyoung could always hear it. 

He couldn’t make out what Yeosang was saying, but even over the roaring and whistling storm in his body, Wooyoung could always hear his voice- stark and clear from the buzzing and pain.

He could feel his hands gently cupping and stroking his face- almost painfully icy cold.

Wooyoung focused on them, the stark contrast only making him tense further, trying to force the icy feeling into his veins to combat the fire burning.

_ Relax,  _ Wooyoung heard Yeosang’s voice like an echo. 

That was what he always said. 

_ Relax.  _

_ Let it pass.  _

_ Stop fighting it.  _

Most of the time, that hurt worse than fighting it. But Wooyoung unclenched his jaw, straining like he was pulling a tooth. 

But by bit, he forced his body to unlock, like tearing each limb away, a cry stuck in his throat as everything rushed through him faster- 

After what felt like an eternity of fighting it, Wooyoung finally managed to give in to it. 

He body went limp, falling onto his side on the deck. He heard San cry out in a slight panic before their hands were gone from holding onto him.

His limp body shook on the ground as he ground his teeth together hard enough to break them.

He felt gentle hands lift his head from the rough wood and lay it on something soft, softly stroking through his hair.

Sometimes, Wooyoung wished Yeosang wouldn’t comfort him like this during these moments. Because he knew that being around Wooyoung, touching him, cradling his head in his lap as he was want to do- he knew the lightning and mist rolling off of him  _ hurt _ Yeosang.

Nothing dangerous, just a painful sting, Yeosang assured him honestly. Not anything worse than a bee sting. 

The selfish part of Wooyoung wanted him to continue- the comfort he provided undeniable and welcome.

But Love wasn’t selfish. Love made itself sick at the thought of causing harm to any of them.

But  _ Wooyoung… _ Wooyoung was selfish. And even as he wished Yeosang wouldn’t, he soaked up the comfort like a child clinging to a favorite blanket. 

Yeosang was resolute and gentle- whispering quiet, comforting things that Wooyoung couldn’t make out, but he knew what they were anyway. He could  _ feel _ what they were in the cool waves of Yeosang’s voice washing over him.

Despite what Wooyoung thought, the remaining loss of control on his elements was not a simple result of his removal from society. It had taken months for them to realize, but Hongjoong was sure.

Wooyoung had never needed to bother controlling himself.

This was all a direct result of finally having too much wild power that he was used to letting control him. For the first time in his existence, Wooyoung was trying to control. And he was starting a million years too late, compared to other gods.

He was learning. But not advancing.

He had a low tolerance of control, a low threshold for power- but he was trying to learn how to control it.

It wasn’t coming along quickly, though. And Wooyoung found failure to be his companion much more readily than success or peace.

But even with that, he still had hope, as he focused on Yeosang’s voice speaking calmly to him- his lack of panic causing Wooyoung to take a deep breath for the first time in several long minutes.

Wooyoung wasn’t necessarily sure he ever really lost consciousness when this happened. But he closed his eyes, and it certainly felt like falling unconscious. He blacked out, his mind going blissfully blank for a while as the roaring and Yeosang’s voice faded into nothing.

He came to in the same position he blacked out in, but a different spot on deck.

They had moved him closer to the bow of the ship- Yeosang leaning back against the railing with his legs stretched out and Wooyoung’s head laying atop them, staring up at the bright blue sky.

He blinked hard, clenching his eyes shut and wishing he would black out again as his body throbbed with aches.

“Welcome back,” Yeosang said gently, though it was meant to be coy. His hand rested soothingly against Wooyoung’s hot forehead, a blessedly cool weight against the feverish skin.

He released an involuntary sigh of relief, trying to lean into the touch, but unable to lift his head, his neck and limbs feeling like lead.

Yeosang understood though. Wooyoung’s throat closed up as he rested the cool back of his hand against his forehead.

Somehow, Yeosang always understood. Even when he didn’t.

Over time, Wooyoung began to wonder if that was why War and the Moon got along. Maybe War just needed someone to understand.

“It’s okay,” Yeosang murmured, stroking cold fingers along Wooyoung’s cheek and neck, making goosebumps erupt at the temperature difference that felt heavenly. Wooyoung sighed again, and he could  _ feel _ Yeosang’s quiet smile that was relieved he was awake.

“You were out for a while… all of yesterday,” he murmured quietly as Wooyoung focused on his icy touch and the cool hand resting on his chest, rubbing gentle circles. “I was almost starting to worry…”

Yeosang always worried. Constantly, even when Wooyoung managed to be find a good middle ground, he was always and permanently concerned, even if he was able to hide it.

Wooyoung tried to assuage it where he could, but there just wasn’t much he could do. Especially like now, where Wooyoung felt like he was balancing on a knife’s edge of consciousness and passing out.

“You don’t usually have such strong expulsions so close together… You passed out after one just a few days ago…” Yeosang whispered, his hand pausing where it stroked his cheek.

Wooyoung couldn’t find the energy to move his mouth and speak. His brain was still operating on a lag, struggling to keep up with even Yeosang’s slow, soothing speech.

But Wooyoung could practically taste the concern in his voice.

“I’m… I don’t think it’s anything wrong,” Yeosang assured him firmly. “But… you were out of it for longer than usual because of how close the two rages were… and I started almost getting a little scared.” He laughed weakly, but Wooyoung knew that he found it anything but funny.

Wooyoung hated being like this.

Hated his elements that forced him into a weakness so great, he couldn’t even hold Yeosang’s hand on his own, to offer his own comfort.

Hell, he couldn’t even speak a word of comfort after such horrific displays.

But Yeosang… Yeosang always understood.

With monumental effort, Wooyoung managed to shift his fingers the barest amount. Half the time, he wasn’t even sure he was actually moving, but Yeosang always responded.

Cool fingers laced through his softly, and Wooyoung wished he could squeeze them.

He had a more violent episode a few days ago that incapacitated him. He had barely begun to gain back any sort of strength before another had come along.

Wooyoung hadn’t even realized he had “blacked out” again until he felt himself being shaken- gentle but insistent.

His eyes flew open, like being startled awake, and he stared up at Yeosang’s frightened eyes for a brief moment before his eyes fell closed again, his heart leaping and racing at the scare.

“Gods, you scared me,” Yeosang breathed as guilt tugged at Wooyoung’s chest as Yeosang’s bent down to rest their forehead together, quiet breaths of relief brushing against Wooyoung’s cheek as the hand in his squeezed tight.

Wooyoung… usually didn’t pass out more than once. Not that deeply, and not long enough to cause that sort of reaction from Yeosang.

Having two episodes so close together must be taking its toll. 

He noticed the gentle tremors in Yeosang’s hand resting in his.

Wooyoung… was so very tired. The fear and adrenaline of the scare was quickly fading, just leaving him feeling buzzy.

But his mind was struggling to focus on Yeosang who still hadn’t moved, clearly having been trying to get Wooyoung to respond for a while…

“I know,” Yeosang whispered, lips brushing Wooyoung’s temple. “I- I know it’s just because you had two episode so close together. It’s bound to take more out of you,” he hissed weakly. “I shouldn’t be overreacting-“

Wooyoung tried to squeeze Yeosang’s hand, but it was like he couldn’t get his mind to focus enough to send the signal.

He lay there, unable to even clench his teeth in frustration, as Yeosang tried to calm himself.

He  _ hated _ this. Hated it the most when there were a growing list of reasons he should be reassuring Yeosang.

“Sorry,” Yeosang murmured, finally drawing away with his voice thick.

_ Don’t,  _ Wooyoung wanted to snap.  _ Don’t you dare apologize like you did something wrong- _

He laid limply in Yeosang’s lap. 

“Sorry, just rest,” Yeosang rasped, voice too thick and watery. He resumed petting Wooyoung’s hair slowly, hand still shaking slightly. “Damn it all,” he muttered shakily, pausing in frustration at his own emotions.

He took a calming breath as he continued stroking gently through the strands of Wooyoung’s hair.

Wooyoung wanted to comfort him. To reassure him-  _ something _ . Something other than  _ laying there _ like a forsaken corpse for Yeosang to wait to reanimate.

Wooyoung often lost track of time like this, distracted by his own internal anger and the rhythmic comforts that Yeosang provided automatically, routine and rote at this point.

So, Wooyoung didn’t know how long it was before Yeosang spoke again, but he sounded less emotional, though his voice was softer than before.

“You were out long enough,” Yeosang whispered, as if he wasn’t sure if Wooyoung was asleep or not. “Hongjoong, Seonghwa, Yunho, and Mingi already left for shore.”

Wooyoung would have cursed, but he barely registered enough to feel regret at how long he must have unconscious.

“San was worried you went too far this time,” Yeosang murmured, sounding sadly amused. “Seonghwa had to talk to him for a while to convince him you were still alive-“

Yeosang’s voice shook dangerously on the last word, breaking off suddenly as Yeosang fell silent, his hand pausing for a brief moment before resuming, as if that might convince Wooyoung to overlook the near-break.

_ Just move, _ he screamed at his limbs that were as useless to him as his own violent tendencies.

“It’s okay,” Yeosang murmured thickly after a few moments, running gentle fingers through his hair soothingly. “I know.”

Yeosang always knew.

“I know you’d be saying a million things if you could.” He chuckled wetly. “That’s a comfort in and of itself, Wooyoung, I promise. It’s okay, I’m just…” He trailed off, his hand squeezing Wooyoung’s gently in thought.

It was hard. For all of them.

For Hongjoong and Seonghwa who could only tell him what they knew and try to help where they could. For the others, who often tried to help but struggled to connect most of the time, when the rages were particularly bad.

For Yeosang, who had learned to be complacent in the ways he hated to be complacent, and who could often do little else but stand guard by Wooyoung, waiting for his strength to return on its own.

And for Wooyoung, who was waging war against his natures, comforted only by the memories of peace and a promise of a future where he’d stop feeling like this.

“I just scare myself sometimes,” Yeosang finally said, a smile in his voice but if Wooyoung was strong enough to open his eyes, he knew he’s see his eyes misty. “Sometimes, you just can’t stop your mind was wandering to all the worst places, you know?”

Of course, Wooyoung knew.

But he was too weak and useless right now to barely think, much less comfort Yeosang that it was okay to feel that way. Even if Yeosang already knew it was okay. Because he was the one who taught Wooyoung that it was okay.

There were gentle, cool lips pressed to his forehead for a moment, Wooyoung breathing out as Yeosang pulled away, tucking hair behind Wooyoung’s ear. “Just rest,” he said quietly, comfortingly. “It’s all okay, I promise. I’m right here.”

Like he had been waiting for permission, Wooyoung drifted. 

Wooyoung didn’t sleep. But he drifted. In a shallow darkness where he was aware, but not responsive. He heard Yeosang talking, but it was like listening from the end of a long tunnel. It sounded like Jongho that he was talking to.

Vaguely, he was aware- through the brick walls of darkness surrounding him- of Yeosang continuing to brush and stroke wherever was most comfortable. His presence along with what felt like San sitting around Wooyoung for a while.

San’s presence left after some sort of time, and Wooyoung lost awareness for a few blessed minutes. Or maybe it was hours.

He was so tired. The sort of tired that even his odd version of sleep couldn’t cure.

When he woke up, it was with a violent shiver running across his skin.

Even that small movement made him wince, like another chunk of energy had been drained from him.

He felt the body beneath him shift slightly. “Cold?” Yeosang murmured, voice a bit rough from lack of use.

Normally, Wooyoung would squeeze or twitch somehow to communicate that he was.

Another shiver ran across his skin.

Well, not quite a shiver. Almost like a buzz- but not like Love. Almost like… bugs crawls against his skin.

It didn’t feel good. 

“It’s late at night,” Yeosang whispered to him, brushing his hair soothingly. “I guess it’s pretty chilly… Can you move at all?”

Wooyoung tried to focus, the lag in his brain making everything feel sluggish and foggy- except that sensation of bugs crawling, making him feel a little… sick.

He couldn’t move- not even a shift. He wasn’t scared- this wasn’t that uncommon. But that sensation was making his stomach flip slowly, and he wondered if he might need to try and warn Yeosang he might throw up.

That wasn’t all that uncommon either… but the combination of it all just made Wooyoung feel a bit jittery… a little anxious…

“It’s okay,” Yeosang soothed, squeezing his hand, rubbing a comforting thumb in circles. “Jongho and San are both below deck…” He hummed, glancing around and shifting slightly. “I know you don’t me to… but I’m going to leave for just a second to get a blanket. I’ll be back within a minute, okay?”

Wooyoung never liked it when Yeosang left. At least, not without someone else being around. Having someone around grounded him… it felt too much like floating off when he was left alone.

And with the crawling over his skin and the sickening sensation in his stomach, he very much did not want to be left alone.

At the moment, he had no way of conveying that to Yeosang, so he merely took a deep breath, bracing himself for it. 

“Okay?” Yeosang whispered comfortingly. “Just… count to sixty, okay?” he soothed. “I’ll be back before you hit sixty, I promise… Just for a minute, Wooyoung, I swear…”

He knew that Yeosang hated leaving him as much as he hated being left. He shivered again, too tired to gag, but Yeosang slowly began shifting Wooyoung off his lap.

“Count to sixty,” he coaxing gently, resting a hand on his cheek for a brief moment. “I’ll be right back, Wooyoung, I promise.”

Wooyoung believed him. Counting might help keep him grounded…

His head was laid gingerly against the deck, falling limply to the side, and then Yeosang’s touch left him completely. He heard his boots thudding against the deck, vibrating the boards. 

One… two…

Almost immediately, the nausea in his stomach grew, a weak, pathetic whimper stuck in his throat as he forced himself to breathe steadily, like he had practiced so often.

This wasn’t what losing himself usually felt like.

Twelve… thirteen… fourteen…

Wooyoung thought he was too tired to gag, but a shot of electricity tore up his spine so fast, he gasped, gagging as his stomach churned violently, his hands limp against the deck twitching weakly.

Okay, he was starting to get just a little scared, breathing labored but forcefully even.

Twenty… twenty-one… twenty-two…

He heard boots hit the deck heavily, and almost felt relief. But then he realized they were coming from his left. Not his right, where Yeosang had gone.

His breathing suddenly froze in his chest, like an animal hiding amount the brush as it scented danger.

Twenty-five… twenty-six-

A hand slammed around his throat and yanked him into the air.

Wooyoung dangled uselessly, blacking out for a moment at the sudden movement.

On instinct, he would have had tried to reach up, grab at whatever was choking him, but he could barely even grimace as his air supply cut off.

Somehow, he was too out of it to even feel fear.

Not that it would have helped to feel it.

T-twenty-seven- 

~~~~~~~~~

Yeosang’s hand touched a blanket just as his skin suddenly crawled in a way that took a few seconds to register.

He clutched at the threads as his head jerked to the door, a sickening swooping in his stomach that he hadn’t felt but once in his life.

His skin crawled. 

Fear stopped his heart. 

Blanket clutched in his fist, he raced back up to the deck, nearly tripping in his frantic haste, bashing his knee on a stairs, but he scrambled up the rest of the way, stumbling out onto the deck.

He froze, staring in horror.

Chaos stood on the deck, hair wild and darker than the night around him.

A massive hand wrapped around Wooyoung’s throat as he dangled limply. Yeosang didn’t know if he was already unconscious or not, but it didn’t really matter in the end.

Ice washed through his blood as he jerked for a step before jerking back again, his skin crawling in that way that just felt so utterly  _ wrong. _

Chaos was breathing heavily, wet and dripping sea water, grin wicked and wild. “The eight of you are a massive beacon,” he panted roughly, looking gleeful. “But you’re so very hard to track down, did you know? Moving around like little ants…”

Yeosang’s fists clenched at his side, even as his inside trembled with dread. On instinct, he wanted to run for Hongjoong or Seonghwa.

But half of their numbers were gone. And Chaos was currently standing in their only getaway.

The buzzing on Yeosang’s skin grew as he forced himself to take a step forward, eyes flickering to Wooyoung- weak and helpless- and he felt something welling in his throat.

Something he felt every time he saw the aftermath of Wooyoung’s elements.

Something protective. But this time it felt darker.

“You held onto a petty grudge this long?” Yeosang demanded, voice stronger than he felt, icy blood making him shiver as he took another step forward.

“A year is but a moment,” Chaos muttered, voice rumbling. 

He saw Chaos’s grip tighten on Wooyoung’s neck dangerously, drawing an airy squeak as Wooyoung’s lips parted in a silent cry.

Yeosang froze, panic beginning to build.

Because Chaos was going to kill someone. And Yeosang didn’t think there was a single person on this ship strong enough to stop him.

“Release him,” Yeosang said, voice suddenly weaker as Chaos chuckled lowly.

“Or what?” he questioned. “Do you think it’s him I’m after?” He lifted Wooyoung a bit higher, making his legs swing limply.

Yeosang jerked forward again, drawing back quickly, fists forming as he warred between anger, fear, and terrified immobility.

He didn’t know what to  _ do. _

Where were San and Jongho? Were they asleep? Were they coming?

Would it even matter if they did come? Even together, they were still the weakest among the crew. 

Wooyoung was dangling, head sagged back towards the sky, and Yeosang didn’t know  _ what to do- _

“I told you before, Moon Child,” he said, teeth gritting in annoyance, eyes darkening. “You’re like an itch on my skin,” he sneered. “And I do not have a high tolerance for inconveniences like you.”

“I’ve done nothing to you!” Yeosang shouted angrily, glancing at Wooyoung.

He didn’t know if he was unconscious, if he could breathe at all, if he even knew what was happening-

“You exist,” Chaos muttered darkly, lips curling dangerously, grip tightening, making Yeosang flinch. “That’s enough reason for me.”

He jerked Wooyoung forward, his body swinging, and Yeosang jerked forward, unable to stop the panicked cry in his throat, heart clenching helplessly-

Chaos laughed, glancing at Wooyoung like he was an amusing dancing animal. “He was just an annoyance,” he chuckled, grinning like a cat that just gotten his cream, realization lighting his black eyes. “But enough of one that I do not mind getting him out of the way, too.”

Yeosang felt something thrumming beneath his skin.

Something cold and… thick. Sluggish… Like syrup flowing through his veins- slow and burning like ice…

He heard feet pounding behind him, and he threw a hand out quickly behind, hearing San and Jongho freeze.

“Stop,” he said, feeling like he was speaking much too slowly. “Don’t. He’s going to hurt him.”

Was time actually slowing down? It felt like molasses was encasing him. 

Chaos laughed, and he felt Jongho and San shifting nervously, like him, not knowing what to do.

None of them stood a chance against someone like Chaos.

But Yeosang… Yeosang was scared. He felt like he had been backed into a corner- a knife, not to his throat, but to Wooyoung’s.

He was shaking. He could feel it.

“Yeosang,” he heard San whisper. It almost sounded like a warning. But Yeosang was busy staring at Chaos who blinked and then laughed.

“What?” he barked, amused and undaunted. “Is the little Moon Child getting angry? Is Chaos getting to you?” He bared his teeth in a wolfish grin. “Do you feel your fragile little peace breaking down before me? And I haven’t even touched you.”

Peace…

Yeosang hadn’t known peace for a while now. Not real peace. Not since a night a year ago that seemed a lifetime ago.

Yeosang had been warring with himself for a year now- a constant mood swing between relief and utter despair as he watched Wooyoung dance towards an edge and then throw himself back.

He had spent today unsettled, already shaken by his own fears.

Hongjoong and the others were gone.

Wooyoung was defenseless, and this god was threatening Yeosang’s family.

His Wooyoung.

His fists clenched at his side, a protective surge silencing fear for a moment. The moon was out. It wasn’t full, but it was big enough for Yeosang to feel it pulsing along with his racing pulse.

Wooyoung was…

Everything seemed to slow down. Almost stopped. 

Chaos tutted, dropping the hand holding Wooyoung- still clenching his throat, but Wooyoung’s bottom half hitting the deck and crumbling-

Yeosang jerked forward, and he didn’t step back this time.

It wasn’t peace settling over him. But… almost a numb sensation. Not fear or calm or anything else.

He couldn’t really hear.

He felt like everything was happening in slow motion, heart rising to his throat, something building in his bloodstream.

“ _ Release him, _ ” he said, voice echoing in his head.

Was that just in his head?

Chaos laughed, lifting Wooyoung again-

It seemed brighter outside, but Yeosang couldn’t tear his eyes away from the two of them, his mind falling still and silent… like the glassy surface of a lake.

“Chaos does not listen to Order. It is so much easier to break Order than Chaos,” he said darkly. His eyes slid over to Wooyoung, grin growing. “I wonder how easy it is to break War.”

Something in his voice made Yeosang’s muscles seize, immobile for a moment.

Chaos grabbed one of Wooyoung’s arms dangling at his side, holding out from his body, turning it over, examining it with sickening fascination.

“Can breaking War break you, Moon Child?” he murmured curiously, glancing at Yeosang from the corner of his eye.

Yeosang felt… like… like it was the full moon. Like moonlight was pressing against his skin, begging to burst out.

He was going to hurt Wooyoung.

He was going to kill Wooyoung.

To hurt Yeosang… he was going to hurt Wooyoung. 

He was shaking.

San was trying to talk to him. Yeosang could hear him, but he couldn’t…  _ hear _ him.

“Should I see?” Chaos asked curiously, extending the arm towards Yeosang, like an offer. “What if I snap his bones, one by one, until he’s nothing but a pile of useless, broken flesh?”

Pitch black eyes locked on silvery ones that stared blankly.

Yeosang was going to be sick. He could feel it, pressing against his diaphragm making it impossible to breathe.

He didn’t feel anything. No fear. But he could feel… something. Something was rushing through his veins, making it feel as if his veins were going to tear out of his body.

“…Yeo….sang,” he heard Jongho behind him, like listening through a glass door. “-sang… Yeo-!”

“How many broken bones…?” Chaos mused idly, tracing a hand along Wooyoung’s arm, making Yeosang tense. “How many broken bones… until you break, too, Moon Child?”

Yeosang stared, bile stuck to the back of his throat, blood roaring deafeningly.

He wouldn’t.

Wooyoung wasn’t a part of this, he didn’t do anything-

Chaos was after Yeosang, he wouldn’t…

Chaos ran a gentle hand along Wooyoung’s arm.

Wooyoung’s head lolled to the side, expression lax and unaware. So blissfully, dangerously unaware.

Something surged through Yeosang for a moment- it felt startlingly like fear, but fear never made him feel so cold but vibrating like a million volts was rushing through him.

He felt like he was burning.

Was it hot or cold?

Chaos was going to hurt Wooyoung. He was going to kill him, it was Yeosang’s job-

Yeosang was supposed to be protect him, he promised to protect him, he was supposed to-

Chaos grabbed Wooyoung’s wrist, and Yeosang’s stomach lurched, a gag filling his mouth as something in his stomach snapped.

He wouldn’t actually-

Chaos twisted the arm with a sickening grin, a resounding crack echoing in the night.

Wooyoung screamed.

Yeosang… somehow wasn’t expecting him to scream, body tensing and lips parting in an echoing cry that tore through Yeosang’s heart-

Wooyoung… had never screamed like that.

In all the rages, in all his weakened moments… Yeosang had never heard something so guttural, ragged and broken…

Yeosang swore… to protect Wooyoung.

To help Wooyoung make it to a day when he could be happy.

_ He was supposed to protect him- _

_ He was screaming, he’s screaming, why is he screaming- _

_ Stop screaming- _

_ Stop hurting him- _

_ I’m supposed to protect him- _

For a moment, Yeosang thought he had passed out. Whether from fear, grief, or an attempt to free his consciousness from its utter helplessness, he passed out.

He thought he did.

But when he came to, he was standing in a different part of the deck- two bodies laying at his feet and his head spinning dangerously.

He felt as if he had just been dropped out of a tornado, unsteady, stumbling, disoriented…

He stumbled, looking down at his feet that felt like the ship was rocking dangerously.

By his feet, he saw Wooyoung laying- teeth gritted and arm bent at a sickening angle.

He gagged, turning away quickly, a hand pressing to his mouth-

On his other side, Chaos lay- eyes staring up at the moon, blank and empty with his mouth open in a silent cry.

He wasn’t moving.

Yeosang stared in confusion. What happened- Why was-

He stumbled against, rough hands catching him suddenly.

Yeosang immediately doubled over, vomiting so hard, his head felt like it was going to explode.

San was yelling something. Someone was shaking him.

Suddenly… it hurt.

It hurt so badly. Worse than any pain Yeosang had experienced before.

_ It hurt so bad- _

Blindly white-hot, something tore through him strong enough that he barely had time to open and scream before he really did black out.

As his head tipped back, he caught one more glance of Wooyoung, curled around his twisted arm- shaking and fragile and…

Yeosang was supposed to protect him.

But he blacked out. Useless… and helpless.

He failed Wooyoung.

Stupid, useless… ignorant Moon Child.

~~~~~~~~~

Hongjoong whipped around, the small sack of coins in his hand falling to the ground and spilling out across the cobblestone.

Seonghwa looked over sharply, glancing from the spilled coins to Hongjoong’s suddenly pale face.

“Something’s wrong,” Hongjoong whispered, a pit forming in his stomach.

Seonghwa frowned, glancing back towards the harbor. “What do mean?”

Hongjoong was still- like an animal scenting the air- body tensing. His expression tightened, something stricken overtaking it.

“No…”

Seonghwa frowned. “Hongjoong, what-“

Hongjoong was already running, not even glancing back. Like a man possessed, he raced towards the harbor.

Seonghwa was stunned for a moment, but knew better than to questions such a response.

“Yunho! Mingi!” he yelled at the small market, not even glancing to see if they heard before racing off after Hongjoong.

Something was wrong?

Hongjoong wasn’t one to panic. Not like this. Not unless he  _ knew _ something was wrong.

“Hongjoong!” Seonghwa yelled as they reached their small lifeboat, Hongjoong already trying to shove off without waiting for them.

He caught Hongjoong’s arm, jerking him around, staring his wide, wild eyes in concern.

“What’s going on?” Seonghwa demanded, glancing between him and the boat.

“Something- Something’s wrong,” Hongjoong panted, trying to jerk away. “Yeosang- He’s- Something’s wrong-“ 

“What do you mean?” he demanded, stomach dropping fearfully. “How could you feel that all the way-“ 

Hongjoong tore himself away with a cry of frustration. “Something’s wrong!” he cried desperately, shoving at the boat again. “I can’t- I  _ can’t- _ “ He shoved at the boat desperately, too disoriented and uncoordinated to move it.

Seonghwa tried to touch him again, but Hongjoong just threw his entire weight against the boat-

Seonghwa grabbed his wrist. “ _ Hongjoong- _ ”

Hongjoong slapped his hand away so hard, Seonghwa stumbled back, withdrawing it as his eyes widened-

Tears swam in Hongjoong’s eyes, expression twisted in fear. “ _ I can’t feel him!” _ he cried, shoving at the boat and finally managing to move it an inch. “I- I can’t feel Yeosang anymore! I can’t feel him at all-“

Seonghwa was numb for a moment, stunned as ice slowly crept into his veins. “Why not?” he breathed as Mingi and Yunho finally ran up, confused and concerned-

“I don’t know!” Hongjoong practically screamed, kicking at the boat when it wouldn’t move, Mingi and Yunho rushing forward to help.

He ran both hands through his hair, gripping it much too tight as tears dripped from his eyes slowly.

“I- I don’t know- I could feel him. I could feel him the whole time, but he suddenly- He just… It’s like he blinked out of existence!” he cried, voice catching.

Seonghwa stared dumbly as Hongjoong helped the two of them get the boat back in the water.

Yeosang was just… gone?

~~~~~~~~~

Hongjoong frantically climbed over the ladder hanging over the side of the ship, nearly falling three times-

His heart dropped to his stomach as he froze.

The sight he came on board to was of Yeosang laying on the deck, unconscious, while San held him tightly, a green aura surrounding the two of them as San rocked gently.

Jongho knelt beside Wooyoung, pinning him down with a hand on his chest-

Wooyoung’s arm was bent at a sickening, sharp angle, his face ashen and pale as his chest heaved in labored breaths.

And beside them, the body of Chaos laying with dead eyes staring up at the sky, eagle spread and still. 

Hongjoong… could not even comprehend what he was seeing.

But he knew that he standing six feet from Yeosang… and couldn’t feel a thing from him.

Not a single whisper of presence.

The sea turned turbulent. Hongjoong’s weak knees gave out and hit the deck.

What…

Seven elements simultaneously seemed to mourn.

~~~~~~~~~

Wooyoung woke up.

He wished that he didn’t.

Not because he was in pain. He wasn’t.

Not because he was too weak to even breathe. He wasn’t.

But because his eyes opened and he immediately remembered everything that had happened before he lost consciousness.

It was blurry.

It was grainy. Marred and twisted by the pain he had been in, and the fog over his mind, at the time.

But at the very least, he knew the crack of his arm breaking, the searing pain traveling through his body like poison.

He knew that out of the corner of his eye, he could see Yeosang, even if he wasn’t even strong enough to hold his head up.

He saw Yeosang’s eyes glowing a blinding, dangerous mercury- twisting in an anger Wooyoung… hadn’t even thought him capable of.

He saw San and Jongho standing behind Yeosang- their mouths moving as they screamed at Yeosang, but Wooyoung couldn’t hear over his own screaming.

He had been screaming. It hurt.

He saw Yeosang’s skin begin to glow- the moon beginning to glow brighter, like the sun coming out.

He blacked out for a moment, Yeosang’s anger seared into his mind.

And when he opened his eyes again, it was to Yeosang suddenly standing against Chaos, a hand pressed to his forehead as Chaos balked, stunned by his appearance-

_ “Calm yourself,” Yeosang hissed, voices layered a thousand times over as moonlight flooded over the dark board of the ship. It was a voice… filled with anger. With hatred. With rage. _

A voice Wooyoung had never heard before. The statement was a threat, now; not a comfort, as it had been to Wooyoung.

Chaos crumbled. Wooyoung fell. And then he felt too much pain to realize anything else.

And now… he was awake.

And he wished he wasn’t.

He also wished he wasn’t… because Hongjoong was there, sitting beside the bed in a wooden chair, resting his head in his hands.

Wooyoung felt dread settle in his stomach, deep and sickening as Hongjoong looked up, though he made no noise.

Wooyoung thought he’d seen him look bad before, but though he looked no different, the strain in and around his eyes and the tension in his lips and the pallor to his face made him look a million years older.

His shoulders seemed to weight a hundred tons as Wooyoung slowly sat up.

“Feeling better?” Hongjoong asked, voice rough and raspy.

“What happened?” he demanded quietly, tense where he leaned against the headboard. He glanced over, but the other side of the bed was empty.

Devoid of Yeosang.

Hongjoong shook his head tiredly. “How are you feeling?”

“Hongjoong-“

“ _ Wooyoung _ ,” Hongjoong said, bordering on sharp, but too tired to actually reach it.

What he was reaching, it seemed, was a breaking point. 

His eyes pleaded with Wooyoung behind their stress and exhaustion. “How are you feeling?” he asked again, slow and purposeful.

Wooyoung grit his teeth, shifting his limbs slowly. “Fine,” he said stiffly. “Not even a sore muscle.” He glanced down at his left arm- the one he’d felt break.

“It healed within the first few days,” Hongjoong mumbled, rubbing at his eyes. “Probably why you were out for so long while your body tried to heal. There was some pretty bad damage to it.”

“How long?” Wooyoung muttered, oddly numb. No panic, no mania… Just something like a gaping hole in his chest that he couldn’t quite place or focus on.

“Today’s the fifth day.”

“I feel fine,” Wooyoung murmured, looking up, pushing hair from his eyes. “What happened?” he demanded slowly. 

Hongjoong’s jaw worked slowly, eyes strained as he glanced away, staring at the ground. He crossed his arms over his chest. “We were walking around the market… and then I suddenly felt Yeosang’s presence just… blink out of existence.”

Wooyoung entire body seized, stomach rolling-

“He’s not dead!” Hongjoong said quickly, hands flying up and expression twisting. “He’s not gone- He didn’t fade,” he assured him, looking regretful at his phrasing.

Wooyoung relaxed minimally, searching for the familiar presence in the back of his mind-

“We didn’t know what the hell happened,” Hongjoong muttered, running a hand through his hair. “We came back to half the crew unconscious, the other half nearly there, and a dead god-“

“ _ Dead?” _ Wooyoung demanded, head snapping over and eyes widening.

Hongjoong didn’t jump at the demand, staring at Wooyoung with dull eyes. “Yes,” he replied slowly. “Chaos was dead when we got here. His body is already dissolved. Reborn somewhere else.”

Wooyoung didn’t care, the word echoing in his head.

His mouth suddenly felt try as his eyes began to burn. “Did…” His expression twisted. “Did Yeosang-“

“Kill Chaos? According to San and Jongho’s accounts, yes.” Hongjoong crossed his arms tightly over his chest, almost protectively. “Chaos broke your arm- nearly ripped it off. According to San, there was a flash of moonlight, Yeosang touched Chaos, and… well, as far as we can tell, performed the same thing he does to you. Except, much… much stronger.”

Hongjoong’s lips turned down grimly.

And Wooyoung knew that it wasn’t at Chaos’s death.

“He calmed him… to death?” Wooyoung breathed, suddenly feeling light headed.

Yeosang had killed a god?

Had killed  _ Chaos _ himself?

A Moon Child had-

Hongjoong nodded slowly. “It’s… sort of a background thing we knew could happen. Moon Children have done it before, rarely. Yeosang was never strong enough to do it. And Moon Children could never do it outside the full moon-“

“It wasn’t even a half moon that night,” Wooyoung broke in fervently, staring at Hongjoong intently.

Hongjoong stared back at them.

They both knew they were dancing around a subject. And Wooyoung was beginning to grow tired of it.

“Where’s Yeosang?” Wooyoung asked, sitting up fully, slowly. His fingers curled in the blanket tightly.

“Currently in my and Seonghwa’s room,” Hongjoong replied, so perfectly vague, Wooyoung eyes darkened.

“Hongjoong-“

“Wooyoung,” Hongjoong said, firm once more when anger began to build in his throat. He glared at Wooyoung, a very clear message in his eyes.

_ This isn’t easy for anyone. _

“You said he wasn’t dead,” Wooyoung rasped, entire body still and waiting for a blow. “So what happened?”

Hongjoong opened his mouth, then closed it quickly and looked away, pressing his lips together.

Wooyoung wanted to shake him.

But Hongjoong had never acted like this. Not ever. And pity, more than anything else, stilled Wooyoung’s tongue.

“Yeosang was basically fading when we returned to the ship,” Hongjoong whispered, voice hoarse and eyes averted to the ground.

Wooyoung’s heart jumped, but he remained still, even as his heart slowly dissolved in painful acid.

“San was trying to pump energy into him- it was the only thing that kept him from fading right then and there… But San doesn’t even have that much to begin with. He nearly killed himself in the process-“

Why.

“Seonghwa took over once we arrived,” Hongjoong murmured stiffly. “I was too useless to do anything.” Fists formed on his legs. “I couldn’t do a single  _ thing-“ _ he hissed angrily.

Why Yeosang?

“Yunho and Mingi were all helping,” he rasped. “At it took all three of them for Yeosang to even last the next hour.”

Hongjoong placed a hand over his eyes, a shaking breath caught in his lungs.

“We aren’t the Moon,” Hongjoong muttered. “We can’t give him any real power, we could only keep him from tipping over that edge.” Another shaking breath. “He’s been completely unconscious and unresponsive for five days now. We’ve got someone sitting with him at all times- He’s still… still riding that cusp.”

“He still might fade?” Wooyoung didn’t know how his voice was working, but it didn’t even sound like his voice.

“No,” Hongjoong said firmly, drawing is hand away and glaring with weak determination that was too tired to be effective. “We aren’t going to let him.”

“But he’s in danger…” 

Why Yeosang? What had he ever done? Why did Chaos have to target him-

Why did Wooyoung have to be too damn weak to do a  _ single damn thing- _

Wooyoung threw the blankets off of his legs, blood beginning to race as he stood, stumbling towards the door-

Hongjoong caught his arm, suddenly behind Wooyoung as he whipped around to glare- daring him to stop him.

But this time… this time, there was enough fire in Hongjoong’s eyes to make the glare effective.

“We do not have the resources to help you effectively right now,” Hongjoong said lowly, voice dark and warning. “If you lose control… we’ve got too many people who are still too weak to help you. If you lose control… you may only have yourself to help you, Wooyoung.”

It wasn’t a threat.

It was a forewarning- a fair chance to prepare himself.

It was a desperate plea for understanding, from someone who was carrying too many burdens at the moment. Wooyoung grit his teeth painfully tight.

“Don’t go see him if it’s going to hurt you,” Hongjoong said firmly. “Don’t push yourself, if it’s only going to set you back. Understand?” he demanded firmly. “I’m not threatening you, Wooyoung- I don’t want you hurting yourself again. You’re weaker than you think right now. I can’t lose anyone else.”

The last statement came across a bit more desperate, his grip tightening on Wooyoung.

Wooyoung stared back, expression grim.

“Be careful,” Hongjoong practically pleaded. “We’re all worried, understand?”

Wooyoung knew that he wasn’t the first nor the only one to care for Yeosang. He knew that maybe he didn’t even care for him as much as the others who had known him for centuries.

It was a bitter pill to swallow. But not the worst thing he’d had to accept.

“I want to see him,” Wooyoung said firmly, voice tightening.

“I know,” Hongjoong assured him. “But… you need to be responsible, Wooyoung. You need to pay attention to yourself right now, okay?”

Yeosang was unconscious. 

San and Jongho were likely still weak. 

From the looks of it, Hongjoong was entering a self-induced crash, and the other three were probably strained from having to frantically keep their friend alive.

They didn’t have the capacity to care for Wooyoung’s carelessness. Or selfishness.

So Wooyoung swallowed the bitter taste in his mouth that wanted to forget everything and just go to Yeosang. The part of him (that he knew well) that wanted to barge in and lose itself in helpless rage.

He nodded slowly, half expecting Hongjoong to repeat himself.

But Hongjoong merely nodded, releasing Wooyoung slowly. “Go on,” he muttered, face the sort of understanding that meant he knew exactly what Wooyoung was feeling at the moment.

Wooyoung half-turned before jerking to a halt, glancing back at Hongjoong. “What… about you?” he asked slowly, glancing him over. “How are… you holding up?”

Yeosang… was not the only person on this ship Wooyoung learned to care for.

And he felt a spike of guilt at being so absorbed in Yeosang when Hongjoong was standing half-dead in front of him. 

Hongjoong’s lips kicked up tiredly, making a small buzz travel up Wooyoung’s spine. “Fine,” he assured him quietly. “It’s just… been a long time since someone was hurt this bad. The first time it’s been Yeosang… I’m always worried.” He smiled a bit wider, though his eyes only got heavier.

Wooyoung knew that there were no words of comfort that could ease his burden until Yeosang’s condition improved.

So he simply nodded, hoping his expression was enough to convey what he was feeling.

Whatever that was.

It was barely ten steps to reach Hongjoong’s room just down the hall, the door closed most of the way but cracked open. He pushed it open slowly, standing in the doorway as the room was slowly revealed in its entirety to him.

Seonghwa sat on the edge of the bad, both his hands wrapped around Yeosang’s that was limp in his grip, his shoulder hunched tiredly as a gentle white glow surrounding their hands.

Yeosang…

Wooyoung’s breath caught in his throat that suddenly closed sharply.

Yeosang lay on the bed, covered with a blanket, so really all Wooyoung could see was his face. But his skin was so pale, it almost seemed translucent. Ashen and grey and sickly…

For a moment, Wooyoung wholly believed that Hongjoong had lied and that Yeosang was truly dead.

But then the white glow around their hands faded, and Yeosang’s chest abruptly rose, full of air suddenly, as if he had been holding it and suddenly let go.

Seonghwa released a quiet sigh, laying Yeosang’s hand back on the blankets and slumping forward slightly.

Wooyoung stepped into the room quietly, closing the door behind him as he approached the bed.

When he laid a hand on Seonghwa’s shoulder, the other didn’t flinch. In fact, he lifted a hand slowly, resting it over Wooyoung’s heavily before lifted his head with a strained smile that didn’t reach his eyes.

“He’ll be okay,” Seonghwa said immediately.

Wooyoung… knew that. 

He nodded. “What about you?” he asked, glancing at the light sheen of perspiration on Seonghwa’s temple.

Seonghwa’s smile turned the slightest bit more genuine. “I’m fine,” he assured him, squeezing his hand before letting his own drop to his lap. “It’s just a bit stuffy down here since I’ve been here all day.”

He turned a heavy gaze back to Yeosang’s silent and still body, jaw tight and regretful.

“Head up to the deck,” Wooyoung said, tongue feeling numb and disconnected. “Get some fresh air. I’ll stay here for you…”

Seonghwa lifted his eyes, a little brighter than before. “And who’s going to look after  _ you _ ?” he challenged quietly.

Wooyoung rolled his eyes, shoving at his shoulder ( _ very _ gently, barely enough to even shift it). “Send someone down to babysit us if you need to. But who’s looking after you, if Hongjoong is out worrying about everyone?”

Seonghwa chuckled- strained and tired, but genuine. “I guess you’re right,” he sighed, taking one last look at Yeosang. “I’ll send Yunho down while I’m up.”

“Take Hongjoong with you,” Wooyoung said, helping Seonghwa stand with an offered hand. “He looks dead on his feet. Push him in the sea if you have to.”

Seonghwa gave him a measured look, eyebrow creeping up with a quiet chuckle. “You’ve been conscious for ten minutes and already ordering us around.”

“I’ve been unconscious for five days,” Wooyoung replied without missing a beat as Seonghwa walked to the door. “And apparently everything went to hell during that time. Someone has to fix it, don’t they?”

Seonghwa gave him a warning glare with no heat as he left with a quiet, grateful nod. “Don’t strain yourself,” he threw quietly over his shoulder. 

And then… Wooyoung was alone again.

He was almost afraid to turn back and see Yeosang. But he was even more afraid to have him out of his sight for that long, after five days…

Five days, and he still looked this bad? This pale, and weak enough that Seonghwa still needed to feed power into him?

Wooyoung was too numb to really feel the utter terror that thought brought. Instead, he just stared blankly at the wrinkled sheets and pale skin…

Yeosang was always cool to the touch. Soft, gentle… but somehow never chilly. Even as his skin was cold, it was always warming.

But this… He looked cold. Ice cold.

Wooyoung swallowed thickly, stepping forward slowly until his knees brushed the bed.

There was a ball of pins and needles gathered at the small of his back, the sensation making his eyes sting as he stared at Yeosang’s peaceful face. His hair was fanned out on the pillow, his usually rosy cheeks ashen, his usually amused lips pale and thin…

This wasn’t what Yeosang looked like when he was asleep. Wooyoung could see all the little ways it was wrong.

But Yeosang wasn’t asleep. He was practically dying.

All because he had to save Wooyoung, who couldn’t save himself.

He lowered himself slowly, sitting on the edge of the bed carefully, so as not to jostle him as he reached slowly for the hand.

He was scared to touch it- almost expecting to find icy marble beneath his hand.

Wooyoung had never considered… that his rages and weakened states would truly be a danger to anyone but himself. At least… not a danger like this.

Yeosang… killed Chaos. An ancient, powerful god… and a weak little Moon Child had managed to kill him.

All for Wooyoung.

A small droplet appeared on Yeosang’s skin, slipping off onto the bedsheets.

Wooyoung blinked hard at it, and more fell- one by one.

He should have been able to help. He should have never been weak enough to be so useless- so utterly dependent on someone who should never… should have never had to have been so afraid…

He supposed… Yeosang wasn’t as weak as he thought. Even if saving Wooyoung… nearly killed him.

There was a sudden heart-wrenching sob waiting at the base of Wooyoung’s throat and he dropped his chin to his chest as he clenched his eyes shut.

Yeosang’s hand was limp and cold, both of Wooyoung’s wrapping around it warmly as he opened his eyes- vision blurry with tears that sent wave after wave of pins and needles down his spine.

Yeosang was so quiet like this. And Wooyoung had never hated it before.

“Idiot,” he hissed, squeezing his hand tightly, clenching his eyes shut as he suddenly reached forward, knuckle brushing over Yeosang’s cheek softly.

He wasn’t sure which of them he was talking to. 

Yeosang’s skin was cold-

Wooyoung swallowed, lifting the blankets slowly as he half-stood. He slid beneath them, drawing them back down as he shuffled closer- very, oh so carefully- until he laid at Yeosang’s side.

The familiar proximity alone was enough to tear a weak sob from his throat that he quickly bit back, tucking his head against Yeosang’s shoulder, practically hiding away beside his limp body.

An arm was wrapped carefully around Yeosang’s stomach, curling in his shirt, legs knocking against his as he buried his head in the crook of Yeosang’s neck.

It was a familiar position- practically rote. But it felt so different without Yeosang embracing him back. With Yeosang’s skin so chilled against his.

Wooyoung slowly rubbed warm hands across whatever part of skin he could reach, afraid to lift his head and see him.

He didn’t cry. At least, he didn’t sob. But he eventually could feel the damp spot on Yeosang’s collar grow as he pressed against it more firmly.

Wooyoung had so many regrets in his life. 

None of them stung as bitterly as the thought that this was his fault. For being so defenseless, for being someone who became so weak, for forcing Yeosang to kill and almost die- 

The bed felt empty, despite the body beside him.

Wooyoung wrapped around him tighter, though still barely touching him out of fear of hurting him. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispered hoarsely into his skin, spots dancing as he shut his eyes tight. “I’m so sorry… I’m so sorry, I’m so-“

He choked off before the cries managed to escape his throat.

“If you die,” he cried into the crook of his neck, fist squeezing tight, “I’ll  _ never _ forgive you. If you-“

He stopped, biting his tongue as he cursed, tears flowing faster at the verbal statements.

There was no gentle voice reassuring him that it would be okay. 

“If you died… just for  _ me, _ ” he hissed angrily, sucking in sharp breaths. He shook his head. “I’ll never forgive you, you bastard. You  _ idiot- _ Why would you-“

His voice cracked, and he tucked his head back in, throat too tight to speak.

Yeosang could feel people’s presences like this…right? Wooyoung didn’t know if he was too weak to feel his presence, but he hoped he did.

He hoped Yeosang realized what a threat his presence was. The threat of what Wooyoung was going to do if he… if he left.

“Don’t die,” Wooyoung whispered weakly, too close to begging as he crushed Yeosang’s shirt in his fist. “Don’t you  _ dare _ die- I’ll  _ never _ forgive myself, do you hear me?”

He didn’t know if Yeosang could.

But he had fallen silent of his threats by the time the door opened and Yunho stepped in quietly. If he had anything to say about Wooyoung lying with Yeosang, he didn’t voice it.

He merely sat at the foot of the bed silently as Wooyoung stayed wrapped around Yeosang- hoping that everyone could see the visible warning not to try and take him away.

Not a warning. A plea, really.

Wooyoung didn’t sleep. He was too focused on counting the seconds between each rise and fall of Yeosang’s chest and keeping his hand resting gently against his pulse point that beat slow and steady.

He didn’t move.

And no one tried to make him.

~~~~~~~~~

They were waiting for the full moon.

And waiting was hell.

Wooyoung, eventually, had to leave Yeosang’s side. Mostly for his own health- Hongjoong dragging him up tiredly and forcing him to spend some time outside.

No one was really playing any games or throwing each other around. They all sat gathered in a circle around the rigging Yunho hung from and the railing San laid across…

And they just sat. Sometimes, they talked, if they had something to say.

Hongjoong and Seonghwa joined sometimes, but someone was always with Yeosang to keep an eye on him.

“I’m sorry,” San said quietly as they sat on the deck. “Jongho and I should have done something to help… We just stood there.” His brows drew down in guilty anger, but Wooyoung shook his head, knocking their boots together in a weak comfort.

“You’re farther from your elements than anyone,” Wooyoung murmured. “And you kept Yeosang alive long enough for the others to get here. You did enough.”

San offered a wry smile that didn’t reach his eye.

The following two weeks were the heaviest Wooyoung had experienced since arriving.

Shockingly… there were no rages to follow this turbulent emotional ride. Each time he saw Yeosang…

He wasn’t calm, per se. But there was a comfort in seeing him breathe, hearing the quiet, minute shiftings of his body every now and then. Wooyoung didn’t feel War welling up, a need for revenge or release of emotions.

And while Love was being active and sharp, Wooyoung had grown used to ignoring it… or even taking comfort in it when the others patted him on the shoulder gently. Or when he curled up beside Yeosang after Hongjoong allowed him back in the room.

Maybe Wooyoung was too weak to really go into a rage. Maybe… Maybe he was forcing his body to realize what was at stake if it did lose control…

Or maybe… (he thought of it while staring at Yeosang’s quiet breathing) maybe… Wooyoung  _ himself _ was too focused, too grounded in his emotions and companions… to leave much room for War or Love to take over.

Maybe all of this was just colored enough with  _ Wooyoung _ … that War and Love couldn’t find a place to slip in. 

It wasn’t Love or War mourning or regretting or hoping or crying… it was Wooyoung.

Yeosang had little improvement over the two weeks- he remained as still and pale as always, never regaining consciousness once. As the moon grew larger, they began moving him out onto the deck at night.

Sometimes, Wooyoung laid with him on the deck, staring up at the moon and glaring like it might wake Yeosang faster.

Sometimes, he copied the position he had needed a thousand times, resting Yeosang’s head in his lap and curling over him as he brushed through his silky hair gently.

Yeosang was so still for so long… It was equal parts concerning and mesmerizing to watch as the moonlight reflected off his pale skin, though it did nothing to make things better, it seemed.

There was a slight improvement with not needing anyone to feed him more power the second week. Everyone sighed a bigger sigh of relief with each day that passed and his presence remained steady.

The full moon came, everyone holding their breaths.

And then it left… and Yeosang never even twitched.

And the following morning, Wooyoung looked up from where he cradled Yeosang’s head in his lap, stricken eyes staring up at Hongjoong and Seonghwa who were clearly trying to hide their dark concern.

“It… The full moon should have been enough, right?” Wooyoung demanded frantically, torn between tearing away and drawing closer.

“We assumed it would,” Seonghwa said calmly, though his expression was tight. “But… Yeosang has been walking a wire-thin line… it isn’t surprising he needs more time.”

“But nothing changed!” Wooyoung fought, heart shriveling as ice pooled in his stomach. “He’s not any better! How do we know-“

“We don’t know,” Hongjoong said, the stark statement making Wooyoung break off and stare at him in shock. “We don’t know anything, Wooyoung. All we can do is wait. He isn’t dead yet- and he doesn’t seem close to fading at all. So we have to wait.”

It wasn’t cruel. But it was blunt and spoken from a man who wanted to disagree with everything he just said.

Wooyoung dropped his head, glaring at Yeosang as his stomach twisted, blood heating with fear and injustice that he was still like this-

Wooyoung gasped, dropping his head and threading both hands through his hair, squeezing as fiery heat washed over him, begging him to get angry and lose it- to just release all the fear and tension and anger at himself, to just get rid of it-

He felt Yeosang be gently pulled away from his lap.

Wooyoung doubled over, gritting his teeth painfully tight as it flowed through him-

_ Relax.  _

Wooyoung suddenly released the breath he was holding, stopping the resistance that automatically rose to fight War when it surged.

He winced, a weak cry stuck in his throat as small sparks of lightning leapt from his skin, but he kept his breathing even and deep- choking slightly, but letting the lightning run its course, even if it hurt so  _ unbelievably _ bad-

He gasped, panting as the pain faded, receding back into his mind-

“Good,” he heard Hongjoong, suddenly kneeling in front of him and guiding his hands away that nearly tore his hair out. He pet Wooyoung’s hair soothingly. “Excellent, Wooyoung- That was excellent,” he breathed, genuine, despite everything else on their minds.

Wooyoung nodded thickly, struggling to regain his breath as he glanced over at Yeosang that Seonghwa had in his lap, smiling quietly at Wooyoung with quirked lips.

Small victories. In this never ending battle… every little piece helped.

He leaned back against the railing, tired, despite the surge not lasting more than a few minutes. But he’d stopped it.

For now… it was enough.

~~~~~~~~~

Wooyoung was lying beside Yeosang, staring at their hands as he idly linked and uncurled their fingers.

Today was quiet. For everyone.

Wooyoung was comfortable.

Yeosang’s breaths were deep and even- comforting in their regularity that Wooyoung had unconsciously matched. He had been here since morning, but the inaction was getting to him- his limbs a bit tense from staying still all day.

He lifted his eyes, staring at Yeosang’s quiet face for a moment.

He had long since memorized every rise and fall of it (done with and without Yeosang’s attention on him). Every curve of his cheek, the slope of his gentle lips, and the soft shape of his nose- Wooyoung had memorized them all.

Yeosang was breathtaking.

But beyond that, Wooyoung found himself unable to look away for reasons unrelated to his utter beauty that made it feel like he was watching the moon shimmering on the horizon.

He stared because it was Yeosang.

And Wooyoung felt like a satellite caught in orbit.

Wooyoung dropped his head into the curve of Yeosang’s neck, breathing quietly for a moment.

It had been weeks, and Wooyoung clenched his eyes shut at the gaping hole that was left behind without Yeosang’s arms wrapping back around him in response.

Taking a deep breath, Wooyoung steered his thoughts away from the whirlpool that could easily drag him under.

It took physical effort, but Wooyoung managed to sit up, releasing Yeosang from his embrace and taking a moment to rest on the edge of the bed, rubbing at his face.

Yeosang was no longer in danger of dying. But he didn’t just want Yeosang to not die.

He wanted him awake. Happy. Safe. Unafraid.

Wooyoung sighed quietly, the sound coming out a bit shakier than he wanted. He swallowed thickly as he stood, tearing himself away-

“...C…old…”

Wooyoung whipped around so quickly, his knee cracked as he jerked back to stare with wide eyes at the bed.

Yeosang was still and silent, and Wooyoung frowned, thinking for a moment that he was beginning to hallucinate… or that something was lurking in the room-

But then he saw Yeosang’s eyes twitch, his body shifting minutely as his lips parted slowly.

“’s… c… cold…”

It wasn’t even a whisper. Not even a murmur. It was barely a breath, swallowed and muted by the creaking and rocking of the ship.

But Wooyoung heard the breathy utterance, and he stumbled back over to the bed, one knee bracing on the edge, shaking the bed inadvertently, but he stared at Yeosang with wide, pleading eyes.

“Yeosang…?” he whispered, reaching out slowly, almost afraid to touch him.

Wooyoung blinked, shutting his eyes hard. When he opened them, Yeosang stared up at the ceiling, eyes barely cracked open and blank…. As if he wasn’t quite awake. As if he was dreaming out loud, unfocused and tired.

“Th… The moon’s… col…d,” Yeosang breathed, lips barely moving, words slurred.

Wooyoung’s heart leapt at his voice, even as his stomach sank at the words. “Y-You’re cold?” he asked, shifting forward, his hand finally resting against Yeosang’s upper arm.

Yeosang didn’t react to the touch beyond a weak, slow shiver as he blinked sluggishly.

Wooyoung didn’t even know if Yeosang was aware of him.

“Why… The moon… ‘s never…” His brows twitched downward slightly, still bleary. “Why…’s it… so… co… cold?” he whispered weakly, voice sounding like paper.

Wooyoung glanced at the door, torn between running to find Hongjoong and staying here. He swallowed, turning back.

“It’s okay,” Wooyoung whispered shakily, reaching up and brushing Yeosang’s bangs back, staring at his eyes that stared a million miles away. “You’re okay, Yeosang… You overexerted yours-“

With his eyes practically shut, Wooyoung didn’t see the tears until one slid down Yeosang’s face, silent like a knife running Wooyoung through. He froze as Yeosang stared at the ceiling, a tremor running through his body weakly.

“’s cold,” he whispered, voice dying out slowly as another slow tear fell. “Why ‘s it… It ‘s…  _ cold- _ “

Wooyoung hushed him quietly, heart constricting painfully as he dropped onto the bed beside Yeosang, brushing the tears away gently.

“Shh- it’s okay,” he whispered quietly, even though he was sure Yeosang couldn’t hear him. Or, at least, was too out of his mind to register it. “It’s okay, Yeosang.”

There was a shaky breath from Yeosang as more tears fell, and Wooyoung stopped wiping at them, something like fear in his chest as the broken breaths kept coming.

Wooyoung quickly pushed the blankets back, sliding beneath them, still hushing Yeosang’s quiet, barely audible catches of his breath as his chest hiccupped with them.

“I’m here,” Wooyoung whispered, wrapping himself around Yeosang, tugging him closer, feeling the way another shiver ran through Yeosang. He pet his hair gently, pulling the blankets up until they were almost hidden, like children making a fort.

Wooyoung shut his eyes, fingers groping for Yeosang’s hand as the other rubbed warmth into his clothed arms and torso gently.

“You’re okay,” he whispered as Yeosang’s breathing stuttered once more before falling quiet.

Wooyoung could feel the warmth building between them.

Yeosang was cold. Why was he cold? Was that bad? He didn’t seem in danger of fading, but-

Wooyoung lifted his head, staring down at Yeosang intently. His eyes were closed again, his breathing evened out…

The only reason Wooyoung knew he hadn’t imagined it was by the tear tracks stuck to Yeosang’s cheeks.

Wooyoung was too scared to move for a moment, still rubbing warmth into whatever part of Yeosang he could reach, lining their bodies up until not an inch separated them.

Wooyoung knew what it was to be burning from the inside out.

He didn’t want to imagine what it was to freeze in an endless chill that nothing could ease.

He hugged Yeosang closer, wrapped around him like a serpent curled around something precious.

Hongjoong entered the room suddenly, frowning. “Was he-“

“He woke up,” Wooyoung whispered, still holding Yeosang tightly, muscles shaking slightly. “I don’t think he was fully conscious. He said he was cold-“

More blankets were brought, wrapped around the two of them until Wooyoung was sweltering, but it was barely a passing sensation as he watched Yeosang continue to sleep on peacefully.

He prayed- to what god, he couldn’t say- that Yeosang’s mind was as peaceful as his body.

~~~~~~~~

Wooyoung was sleeping, breathing in the soothing scent of Yeosang’s skin.

He suddenly jerked awake, immediately regretting it for rocking the bed they lay on, his hands pressed against the mattress as he sat up blearily, eyes flickering around.

For a moment, he wasn’t sure what had woken him from sleep (well, not sleep, but the closest thing he could get).

But then something in the bed shifted beside him, and Wooyoung whipped back around, eyes adjusting to the darkness of the cabin during the middle of the night.

Like a cat’s eyes glinting in the dark, he saw Yeosang’s eyes open- still heavy and lidded, but they didn’t stare blankly at the ceiling, like before.

They stared at Wooyoung, whose breath was already long gone, as if exhaling might blow away whatever dream was here, and Yeosang’s lips turned up.

Barely able to be called a smile, but it shone in his eyes that were misty as they stared, direct and intent, at Wooyoung.

Neither of them moved for a moment, Wooyoung sure he was going to wake up for real any moment.

But Yeosang swallowed, eyes scanning Wooyoung’s face slowly. “I could feel you,” he whispered, quiet and weak like before, but thick with emotions.

Wooyoung felt like he’d been kicked in the chest by a mule.

“The whole time,” Yeosang went on, quiet and quick as his arm extended towards Wooyoung slowly. “The whole time… I could feel you, I knew you and the others were there,” he breathed, fingertips brushing against Wooyoung’s hip. “I didn’t know what was happening, but I  _ knew _ you were there-“

Wooyoung fell against Yeosang, perhaps a bit too roughly.

But it had been over a month with his absence, and Wooyoung felt like he was breathing properly for the first time since Chaos arrived.

He buried his face in Yeosang’s chest, though he was careful not to crush him. His fingers curled in his shirt as Yeosang chuckled weakly, a fragile hand resting against Wooyoung’s back and his nose burying in Wooyoung’s hair as Yeosang’s hand curled around the hairs at the base of his neck, tugging him close.

Even though it was Yeosang who had been fighting this entire time, Wooyoung felt like he was the one who was finally releasing a pent up breath.

Yeosang trembled slightly, and Wooyoung thought it was just the strain of keeping his arms up, but then his breath shook slightly, lips pressed firmly to Wooyoung’s temple.

“I was scared,” Yeosang whispered hoarsely, voice still quiet and low. “I… didn’t know what was happening, but I knew…” He swallowed thickly, choking a bit when Wooyoung’s grip tightened protectively. “I knew that there was a point where… I could feel myself fading.”

Wooyoung felt cool tears hit his neck.

“I just kept thinking,” he murmured brokenly, “about how much I didn’t want to leave.”

“You shouldn’t have done it,” Wooyoung found himself hissing fearfully into Yeosang’s chest.

Wooyoung had been grateful, though regretful, that Yeosang had saved him. He had felt a million different things at the fact that Yeosang had protected him like that, that he risked everything… for Wooyoung.

But hearing Yeosang speak, even that much, about how terrifying it had been made something sour in his stomach.

“You scared us,” Wooyoung hissed, eyes clenching shut. “You shouldn’t have done it-“

“I didn’t… I didn’t even realize I had,” Yeosang whispered, unaffected by the gentle anger. “I made no… conscious decision. I blanked… And when I came to, you were… Everything felt strange.”

“You killed Chaos.”

How?

That was the question that had plagued Wooyoung for weeks now. How had a little Moon Child managed to kill a Child of Chaos? How could that ever be possible?

But… love let you do crazy things.

He felt Yeosang fall still. “I… I killed him?”

Wooyoung nodded slowly.

Yeosang swallowed. “It was worth it,” he whispered quietly. “If it means he never comes back here again.”

Wooyoung held him tighter, head tucked beneath Yeosang’s jaw as his chest tightened. “You scared us,” Wooyoung hissed again. “It was stupid of you to do that- the full moon even passed, and it did  _ nothing _ , Yeosang. You were practically already dead-“

“I know,” Yeosang whispered, trembling fingers stroking Wooyoung’s hair slowly, the action having an unfairly involuntary calming effect as Wooyoung took a deep breath that only tightened his lungs further. “I’m sorry, I know…”

Wooyoung should be calming down, the longer Yeosang was awake.

But the arms around him… the hand curled in his hair… the lips pressing gentle kisses to his skin…

Yeosang had been afraid. And Wooyoung had been helpless to do a single thing.

Something tightened in his chest, threatening to snap like a piece of rubber stretched too far. 

“Don’t cry, Wooyoung,” Yeosang whispered, almost a plea.

Wooyoung almost called him crazy, but Yeosang’s hand managed to fit between them, brushing beneath Wooyoung’s eye, and there were tears that broke against his skin.

Wooyoung jerked his head away, burying it in Yeosang’s chest as he took labored breaths as a sob caught in his throat.

“It’s okay,” Yeosang murmured, beginning to stroke his hair once more, in a slow rhythm, like a heartbeat. “You were scared, too,” he whispered against Wooyoung’s temple. “You can let it go, Wooyoung,” he urged quietly. “I know you’ve been bottling it up since it happened. You can cry, if you need to…”

“You were afraid- with more reason than I had,” Wooyoung muttered, voice disgustingly thick as tears kept welling, despite his anger that tried to shove them down.

“I cried inside,” Yeosang assured him. “But I stopped being so afraid… after I realized I could still feel you all. I wasn’t afraid after that. But you’ve been holding it in, haven’t you?”

There was something almost scolding in it, but it was much too gentle to be chastising.

Wooyoung didn’t want to feel special in this. He was not the only one scared for Yeosang. He had been more useless than anyone- the only thing he had done was lay and mourn for someone who wasn’t even gone.

But Wooyoung had been so terrified that each day might be one he looked over and Yeosang would just be… gone.

Silent and sudden… Just gone, like that boy from Yeosang’s past.

Wooyoung didn’t want to be irrational, he didn’t want to be treated like a child. He didn’t  _ want _ to sit here and sob while  _ Yeosang _ had been the one in danger of fading. 

It felt selfish.

But Wooyoung was finding out that he was very selfish. Maybe that was War inside of him… but it felt more like Love.

In reality, it felt most like Wooyoung.

And all it took was one more whisper and a tight squeeze from Yeosang that felt like shields placed up around them, and Wooyoung broke like glass crashing against stone.

It wasn’t wild or broken, but it was waves of fear and relief washing over him- silencing the buzz and lightning from Love and War for a while as Wooyoung’s heart slowly knitted itself back together.

It felt like pieces of a puzzle being pressed back together, clicking painfully into place as he soaked Yeosang’s shirt, the other continuing to run gentle fingers through Wooyoung’s hair-

Wooyoung should be comforting him. Should be reassuring him.

He shouldn’t be crying in his arms like  _ he _ was the one who had been hurt-

“Stop it,” Yeosang murmured, barely audibly over the sobs that Wooyoung kept choking over. “It’s not selfish to feel relief, Wooyoung. And it’s not wrong for your emotions to manifest like this, understand?”

This one was scolding- something a bit sharper, ensuring Wooyoung was paying attention.

“Do you understand me?” Yeosang urged, arms tightening protectively, and Wooyoung nodded numbly into his chest, shifting his legs until he was practically curled up against Yeosang.

He had spent days just laying in Yeosang’s presence, but it had been so painfully weak and empty… as if he wasn’t there at all.

His presence was still weak, but Wooyoung could feel it- gentle and pulsing with life as Yeosang held him.

“It’s okay,” Yeosang murmured, comforting nothings whispered into Wooyoung’s hair like secrets he already knew. “You were scared, but it’s okay now…”

A sharp buzz traveled up Wooyoung’s spine, spreading to his fingertips and rushing through every nerve in his body as he tensed for a moment- Love surging for a moment as Yeosang tucked a piece of Wooyoung’s hair behind his ear, a finger placed beneath Wooyoung’s chin that lifted gently.

Wooyoung’s vision was still blurry with tears, but he followed the gentle urge, until his eyes stared down at Yeosang’s that glinted in the darkness, like a cat’s at night.

Wooyoung’s entire body was buzzing with love, but it wasn’t Love.

Yeosang’s cold hand cupped his cheek gently, guiding Wooyoung down, and Wooyoung didn’t hesitate for a moment before pressing their lips together in a gentle motion that Yeosang deepened immediately, taking Wooyoung by surprise for a moment.

He wanted to be slow, to not overwhelm, but Yeosang’s hand was curled in the nape of his neck, pulling Wooyoung down into a deep, not-quite-desperate kiss that made Wooyoung’s arms weak as they suspended him over Yeosang.

Yeosang had been scared. 

Wooyoung was scared, too. 

Even now, he tried to keep a distance away from Yeosang, to keep from crushing him with his weight, but there was a physical pain in his chest that was begging him to just wrap Yeosang’s presence around him and never pull away. 

Yeosang’s presence was alive again- and Wooyoung’s selfish desperation made him want to get lost in it forever. 

They could never be close enough to satisfy the chill in his chest. 

“I missed you,” Wooyoung whispered between the kisses that Yeosang kept guiding him through, his eyes shut tight because he didn’t know if he could deal with seeing Yeosang’s expressions. 

It felt like an odd thing to say. And Wooyoung’s heart dropped when Yeosang cupped his cheek, pausing their contact for a brief moment that made Wooyoung tense, waiting for him to be pulled away. 

“I’m here,” Yeosang murmured, thumb brushing Wooyoung’s cheek softly. “Look at me, Wooyoung- I’m right here.” 

“I know,” Wooyoung hissed, something painful and bubbling churning in his stomach as he grit his teeth. “I know- I know you were okay, but I- I don’t-” 

Wooyoung didn’t know. 

He had gotten better at reading his own emotions and what they meant, but in this moment, he didn’t know what was happening- 

Yeosang hushed him quietly, and Wooyoung felt another pang of guilt at needing to be comforted by the person he should be comforting. 

“What do you need?” Yeosang murmured softly, hand brushing through Wooyoung’s hair to tuck it behind his ear gently. “What do you want, Wooyoung? What do you think will make it better?” He tried to guide Wooyoung. 

He didn’t  _ know.  _ He didn’t feel like he was about to lose control, but there was… something like an itch. Something irritating and off-putting that he couldn’t place, he just wanted- he wanted to know Yeosang was safe. He wanted to feel him around him, he wanted to remind himself that the presence beside him was real and here and alive- 

“I just-” He swallowed, shaking his head when Yeosang whispered for him to open his eyes. “I just- I want- You. I want to be- I want to feel you, be close to you-” 

“You can do that,” Yeosang assured him, sounding amused at such an easy request, underneath the concern at Wooyoung’s distress. “My body feels fine, Wooyoung- You can lay with me.” Gentle hands began guiding Wooyoung down. “I want you near- Just rest-” 

Wooyoung meant to be stronger. But Yeosang’s hands were coaxing him down, and with the permission given, it felt like the strength flooded out of his arms as he practically collapsed on Yeosang’s chest. 

It lit a small flicker of relief in Wooyoung’s chest when Yeosang embraced him without hesitation, holding him tightly as Wooyoung buried his face in his chest, arms curled up and legs bent around him. 

Wooyoung didn’t cling to Yeosang, laying curled tightly on his chest like a cat. 

One of Yeosang’s arms held him close and the other slowly stroked through his hair as Yeosang whispered quiet hushes and comforts that washed over Wooyoung like water on a beach. 

Wooyoung could smell the scent of sea and wood on Yeosang, crisp and familiar as the gentle touches that soothed him. 

He let Yeosang encase him- his presence swallowing Wooyoung and making him feel like a tiny piece of scrap wood getting tossed around in the waves that swallowed him easily. 

He wanted them to swallow him. 

A knot in Wooyoung’s chest suddenly released, lungs filled with a breath of relief as tears welled in his eyes once again- 

The buzz gathering at the base of his spine was almost comforting. 

“I love you,” Wooyoung choked, muffled by Yeosang’s chest as his fingers gently curled into whatever fabric was available. “I feel it so  _ much, _ Yeosang,” he hissed, throat tightening. “I can feel it- it’s  _ everywhere _ . I can’t escape it…” 

“Do you want to?” Yeosang murmured after a moment of silence. 

“No,” Wooyoung cried without hesitation, shaking his head sharply. “It hurts, but it- it’s good-” 

It was an age old description. One Wooyoung had learned to accept as one feeling, rather than two. That was just what Love felt like. 

Love was easy to find anywhere on this ship. 

But like Wooyoung had learned that Seonghwa and Hongjoong’s love was different… he now knew, from the bottom of his soul, that the love that Yeosang encased him in, and the love that Wooyoung felt helplessly pouring from his chest… it was very much different. 

Even different from Seonghwa and Hongjoong. 

Wooyoung wanted to drown in Yeosang. 

“I love you,” Yeosang whispered, quieter than Wooyoung, his fingers tangled in the back of his hair and his lips brushing Wooyoung’s temple. “I’m so  _ proud _ of you, Wooyoung, of everything you’ve accomplished and overcome- You’re  _ brilliant,  _ Wooyoung-” 

Even after a year… it got no easier to hear those kinds of words. 

Nor to ignore the almost painful surge of Love rushing through his spine and love bursting in his chest. 

Love responded to Yeosang, like it did the others. 

But Wooyoung loved Yeosang in an exclusive way. 

Love was passive. 

But the love that he felt exchanging with Yeosang every moment of their lives was dynamic and stormy and deep. It created, rather than reacted. It burst out, rather than waiting for anything to trigger it. 

Love and love were very different, Wooyoung was beginning to teach himself. 

Both kinds wrapped around Wooyoung as tightly as Yeosang’s arms, lulling him into a comfort of safety and familiarity. 

Even after the tears stopped, the two of them continued to lay still, just basking in the comfort of the other’s presence. 

Yeosang’s- cool and calming. And Wooyoung’s- warm and solid. 

Both of them were aware of Hongjoong pausing for a moment to peek into the room. Wooyoung felt Yeosang begin to shift, as if to sit up, but then he felt Hongjoong’s presence move on with a small spike of Love running up his spine. 

Part of him felt guilt again. As if he was selfishly keeping Yeosang to himself. 

But Yeosang merely chuckled quietly in his chest as he resettled, arms looped around Wooyoung. 

“It’s alright,” Yeosang murmured, as if reading his mind, as he so easily could. “Everything’s alright,” he promised in a comforting whisper. “Hongjoong will tell the others it’s okay. We’re safe here… Just rest.” 

It had been so long since Yeosang had actually used his element to calm Wooyoung. 

But even without it, his physical presence alone was enough to have Wooyoung believing he could fall asleep here and now. 

He didn’t sleep. 

But he let himself believe Yeosang, getting lost in the gentle rhythm of his heartbeat and the slow rise and fall of his chest. 

He focused on the way his fingers flexed against Wooyoung. How his body shifted to be more comfortable. 

All the little things that created a lullaby for Wooyoung- symbols that he was alive, breathing, and… and here. 

Wooyoung rested in a dark abyss that was dreamless, but not static. 

The darkness was alive with Yeosang’s presence and all the little ticks that showed he was still there. 

And Wooyoung basked in it, letting it wrap a blanket of safety around him. 

He felt, more than heard, the quiet rumble from Yeosnag’s tired lips: “I love you… so much, Wooyoung… For an eternity, I swear…” 

Wooyoung had never looked forward to eternity before. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (I had so much fun writing Yeosang in this chapter. My powerful child ㅠㅠ)   
> Thank you so much for reading!!   
> I’m so sad to say goodbye next chapter, but I’m so grateful for all of your support!!!   
> I’ll see you all in the final chapter!   
> Thank you, take care, and please let me know what you think!!   
> -SS


	7. Epilogue: Devotion and Eternity (The One He Ran To)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The final chapter ㅠㅠㅠ  
> I seriously cannot thank everyone who loved this enough! You guys are always so amazing, and I genuinely thank you all~~  
> I had so much fun with this chapter, so I hope it’s a good wrap up for this work!  
> I hope you’re all safe and happy, and please let me know what you think of this chapter!!  
> Thank you again, lovelies!! 
> 
> -SS  
> Also: There is smut in this chapter-  
> it’s relatively nongraphic, though!

Wooyoung was laying out on the deck, arms and legs thrown out to the side.

The sun was almost unbearably hot against his face, making his eyes shut tight to keep it out. 

“Yunho,” Wooyoung muttered tiredly, finally throwing an arm over his eyes, “stop making it so unbearably hot.” 

“It’s not even full summer yet!” Yunho chuckled from the rigging he was always swinging from. Wooyoung heard the ropes creaking as he climbed across them like some sort of monkey. “I think this is great weather! There’s not a cloud in the sky!” 

Yunho always got more hyperactive on sunny days, and Wooyoung would admit that sometimes the sun glinting off the water was invigorating in its beauty, but it was currently the hottest day they’d had in weeks, and Wooyoung felt like he was baking in his own skin. 

He wasn’t miserable… emotionally. But physically, he just wished the sun would stop warming him uncomfortably. 

Inside his head, he was content to sit in the bright sun- the light doing more for his current mental state than the dimness of his room would. 

“Just go below deck,” Mingi told him, huffing in amusement at his complaining. 

“Too claustrophobic right now,” Wooyoung muttered, throwing his arm back out and squeezing his eyes shut tighter. “Just turn the sun off.” 

“Sure,” Yunho said, his eye roll audible in his voice. “And you can just stop all the wars going on, yes?” 

Wooyoung braved the blinding light to glare at Yunho, but it probably came out more like a mole rat hissing at the light. 

He groaned, touching his hot cheeks and covering them with his hands that were much too warm to be of any help. It wasn’t so awful, but Wooyoung’s eyes hurt from the light. 

He sighed exaggeratedly, more to just hear the others sigh at his complaints, though there was a low buzz gathered around his spine. 

A figure suddenly blocked the sun- just the small amount of shade over Wooyoung’s face enough to make him sigh in relief as he cracked his eyes open. Seonghwa stared down at him, looking slightly amused at his suffering. 

But Wooyoung saw the slight light of concern behind his eyes. 

He sat up slowly, head spinning from laying down so long. “What?” he asked, voice calm but tense with apprehension. 

Seonghwa nodded towards the door below deck. “Yeosang is sleeping again. He wanted me to let you know. He’ll be coming out tonight, though, if he wakes up by then.” 

Wooyoung glanced at the door forlornly before nodding slowly. He’d hoped that Yeosang’s nap this morning would have been enough, but… 

Ever since summer arrived… well, the days grew longer and the nights were shorter. Yeosang’s element appeared less and less as the night was pushed further and further in the day. 

There was no sort of detrimental harm to Yeosang aside from a slight sensitivity because of how tired he became. Most days, he slept at least part of the day, only coming out when the night actually fell and allowed the moon to appear. 

Even during the night, though, he was quiet and tired, resting against the bow of the ship with his arms pillowing his head as his eyes fluttered open or closed, depending on how awake he felt. 

And as they got further into summer, his little naps had turned to sleeping most of the day. 

It was something that happened every year, during the longer days, Hongjoong had assured him the first time Wooyoung panicked because Yeosang seemed to slowly be getting weaker as the temperature and daylight hours rose. 

Wooyoung had become accustomed to it, over his time here, and Yeosang had told him in great detail how it almost felt like being mortal. 

It wasn’t a normal weakness from his element, because the moon was still there and just as powerful. But it almost felt like a mortal when they didn’t sleep deep enough. They may sleep for hours, but without reaching a deep enough plane, you woke up feeling just as tired as when you went to bed. 

As discomforted as Wooyoung was by that statement… he knew that it was just the natural flow and ebb of their elements. 

Year after year… Some things never really got easier to handle, even if they were able to be accepted as normal. 

It was just natural to be worried as they neared the summer solstice- the day that Yeosang would be weakest, out of all the year. It was the same concern as they kept eyes on Yunho at the time of the winter solstice. 

It was just the natural cycle of their elements. Nothing abnormal or concerning. 

Except Wooyoung was always concerned, even when he knew he didn’t have to be. 

(Especially for Yeosang, but he’d never tell the others that, even if they already knew. 

He remembered San smirked, as if it was the funniest thing he’d seen.  _ “We’ve got six other people to worry about any one of us,” San had snorted. “It’s not going to kill us or break our hearts that you’ve got someone you’re more preoccupied with, Wooyoung. It’s okay.” _ )

It was… okay. His feels were valid and… okay. 

Wooyoung spent his day baking in the sun, debating for a while whether he should go keep Yeosang company, but deciding against it. It was only a few hours, and his body felt like it needed the open air right now. 

It had been a few years, and Wooyoung was getting much better at reading his body exactly. 

And keeping guilt at bay for following those needs. 

Even if he felt guilty for leaving Yeosang alone down there, he allowed it to pass through him, knowing that going down right now would only create further turmoil in his chest. 

Guilt was perhaps one of the hardest things Wooyoung had learned to let pass through him, as he would Love or War- ceasing to cling to it, and simply letting it become part of him. 

Not all of him. 

Yeosang was proud of him. And that created a whole different brand of fire crackling in Wooyoung’s chest. 

(Which was saying something because Wooyoung was finding more and more that Yeosang’s simple presence was enough to light an almost painful, smouldering coal in Wooyoung’s chest that only grew as proximity and intimacy were initiated.

It was a terrifying, thrilling experience- like feeling Love and War all at once.) 

Wooyoung didn’t spend his day clinging to Yeosang’s bedside, terrified of taking his eyes off him for a moment. (At least, not after the first three years.) 

Ironically, Wooyoung felt like the earth, revolving around Yeosang, if he were the sun. 

Wooyoung was at all times gravitating towards Yeosang, pulling towards or away at any given moment- caught in his pull and helpless in ability (or desire) to release himself from it. 

But like the earth, he wasn’t always facing Yeosang. Sometimes, he turned away. Sometimes, he merely glanced from the corner of his eye. Sometimes, he turned his back completely, and sometimes, he faced him head on, almost overwhelmed by how bright and powerful he shone- 

Wooyoung missed Yeosang’s noticeable presence, but he merely waited, knowing that like the ever-constant moon that sometimes disappeared behind a cloud, he would return, with time. 

Wooyoung was standing beneath the evening sky, arms braced on the railing as he stared out at the horizon that was dyed brilliant hues. 

He watched with calm serenity as dark blue overtook the gentle pinks, and then the midnight blue overtook the dark, and then the almost-black dyed the sky with finishing touches. 

The edges of the moon slowly rose above the horizon line of the calm waters that stretched as far as the eye could see. 

It was a calm night. For everyone. 

A shiver ran pleasantly down Wooyoung’s spine as he turned the moment Yeosang appeared at the doorway, rubbing sleep from his eyes. His lips kicked up slightly as Yeosang walked slowly across the deck, blinking slow as he stared at the beginning appearance of the crescent moon. 

Yeosang pressed solidly against Wooyoung’s side, leaning on him quietly with his arms braced in a mirror position of Wooyoung. Their legs and shoulders aligned as Wooyoung turned without thought, resting his lips against Yeosang’s cool temple, the other sighing quietly and leaning on him more heavily. 

Yeosang was warm and heavy with sleep, and Wooyoung’s chest did the now-familiar dance as it burned with a low, kindling flame. 

“You’ve had a good day?” Yeosang asked, but it was more a statement, practically tasting the quiet atmosphere that wasn’t tinted with jittery nerves or restless energy sparking and buzzing. 

As always, Yeosang read him like an open book. 

A book Wooyoung now gladly held wide open for easy observance. 

Wooyoung stared at the tips of Yeosang’s hair for a moment before his expression softened. “Yes,” he murmured, lips twitching subtly. “Below deck was a bit cramped, but being on deck… It was hot, but it was good. Yunho and Mingi spent most of the day fighting and trying to throw each other overboard. It felt… nice being amid the energy.” 

Yeosang chuckled slowly, deep and tired as he rested his head on Wooyoung’s shoulder. “I’m glad,” he whispered, one arm slipping under Wooyoung’s and lacing their fingers loosely. His hand was chilled. 

Wooyoung waited for him to say something more, but he was silent. “Want to sit?” he offered, though he shifted for Yeosang to lean on him more comfortably. 

There was another pause before Yeosang hummed in affirmation, already sliding down slowly, limbs heavy. Wooyoung wrapped a firm arm around his waist, helping them both sit gingerly as Yeosang leaned back into Wooyoung’s chest, head tipped back on his shoulder. 

His eyes were closed again, but his expression was peaceful. Wooyoung ran a thumb over the back of his smooth hand, observing his profile in the silvery light as his gut twisted. 

“We can go back down, if you want to sleep more.”

Yeosang shook his head slowly, not even opening his eyes, lips parted as if he were already half back to sleep. Wooyoung merely shifted so his neck wasn’t bent as much and wrapped loose arms around his slim waist.

At first, it had been something of an inside joke- how funny it was how their positions flopped back and forth. 

Only a few short years had passed, but so much of it had been spent with Wooyoung practically helpless in Yeosang’s arms- relying on him and the others totally to keep him grounded and safe as his mind floated from black hole to black hole. 

There were so many times when Wooyoung was sure that his body was about to give out. That he had finally reached his limit and things were about to fade away, as he lay there as helpless as a newborn as the others fluttered around him like butterflies. 

But it had been… what? Months? With no sort of uncontrollable outburst from Wooyoung. It had been so many weeks since Wooyoung had laid, weakened and useless from his powers, with only Yeosang to keep his head up. 

Wooyoung was so hesitant to call anything progress because it could so quickly be snatched away by one bad day. 

But even before these weeks of peace, the outbursts and subsequent weakness had been rapidly decreasing over the months- few and far between compared to the near daily struggle they faced. 

With time, Wooyoung had also grown…  _ accustomed  _ to his other half. The half that wasn’t about battling his own nature. 

The half that was him tilting Yeosang’s head to a more comfortable angle, shifting so that Yeosang could see the moon if he wanted to, without having to move. 

The half that held Yeosang’s hand gently, squeezing it every now and then like a reminder of his presence. 

The half that stared at their intertwined hands and wanted to weep like a child at the scarred hands that used to only know death and fighting, that were now holding hands that were untouched by violence or anger. 

(Hands that had killed in the purest way to protect him.)

Wooyoung was used to… destroying. To being surrounded by carnage and death and feeling the lightning of power crackling over his skin. He had found the feeling addicting, in the beginning. That had been his reality. 

And then he felt the pins and needles of Love waking back up, pouring over his skin and mind and heart- dyeing everything a brilliant crimson and seeping between every crack of these seven gods. 

And then he grew used to Love permeating the air. 

But he also grew used to laying there, overwhelmed by his own nature, helpless to himself, and simply staring as he was cared for by the others and Yeosang (maybe mostly Yeosang, but that was the Moon Child’s choice). 

He grew used to relying on Yeosang, when his physical body couldn’t be trusted to even support his own weight. 

He grew used to hearing comforting words that he never could make out, but knew in his heart what they said. He grew used to gentle hands that would never harm him, despite all the harm he had brought to others. 

He grew used to Yeosang being the first thing he saw when his eyes opened, and the last thing he saw when he trusted enough to close them. 

He grew used to controlling himself. 

He grew used to the ache in his muscles from carrying himself, but  _ by all the gods  _ did he learn to carry himself. 

And then… with time… 

Then, he grew used to holding Yeosang up as summer sapped his strength. To watching Yeosang sleep the days away. To standing a bit closer than usual because Yeosang turned clumsy and unsteady during the long, intense days. 

He grew used to keeping half an eye on Yeosang, as if every day of summer were a full moon of a different variety. 

( _ Full moons had become… terrifying. Because Wooyoung was barely able to care for himself, relying so heavily on the others to help him stand tall.  _

_ And sometimes… Yeosang seemed to just… leave.  _

_ The first time it happened, it snuck up on all of them- everyone too occupied with Wooyoung and all the insanity surrounding him to keep track of the days.  _

_ Wooyoung had walked out onto the deck to find Yeosang staring out at sea with black eyes that glowed silver in the darkness, staring a million miles away, like he was looking at single, individual star.  _

_ Wooyoung had shaken him, asking what was wrong, and when Yeosng didn’t even shift, Wooyoung emotionally fragile mind had leapt into wild panic-  _

_ Everything in him screamed that Yeosang was fading.  _

_ Hongjoong and Seonghwa ran up on deck as Wooyoung shook Yeosang too roughly, yelling for him to look at him, as Yeosang’s head merely lolled loosely-  _

_ It was almost like he was already gone. It both the Sea and Sky to calm Wooyoung, to assure him that this is what normally happens-  _

_ Wooyoung remembered Yeosang describing the sensation, how he had come so close to fading so many times, and he never even realized it-  _

_ Seonghwa merely laid Yeosang down on the deck, smoothing his hair back, and Yeosang’s eyes stared up at the stars, blank and glowing like mercury. Wooyoung couldn’t tear his eyes away, but he desperately wanted the scene to leave his head.  _

_ All at once, the death-stare faded as Yeosang blinked, coming back to himself as naturally as waking from a nap.  _

_ Wooyoung would refuse any claim that he cried.  _

_ The next full moon wasn’t as intense a scare- merely a night spent where he and Yeosang spoke quietly, accented with Yeosang suddenly trailing off, eyes going blank and a silvery glow flickering across them like a lighthouse calling for sailors- _

_ Sometimes, a simple (frantic) call of his name would suffice, and others it would be an hour before Yeosang blinked, coming back to himself with gentle wobble as he regained his balance.  _

_ Wooyoung… learned what it was to take care of another, no matter how poorly he did it. _ )

Wooyoung grew used to having his heart leap at every bout of exhaustion or elongated nap that took Yeosang against his will. 

He stopped having a heart attack and started jumping into action. 

He stopped his pitiful excuses of being broken… he set himself aside, and he learned what it was to help care for another. 

Wooyoung was once used to laying his head in Yeosang’s lap, half-drunk on pain and delirium. But it became second nature to slip an arm around Yeosang’s waist, just to give him somewhere to put his weight when he suddenly stumbled, clutching at his head. 

It became second nature to wait for Yeosang to wake, and to offer whatever part of Wooyoung Yeosang found most comfortable to replace the bed he managed to drag himself out of. 

And Wooyoung… found something healing in providing for someone who had given so much to him. 

It wasn’t about repayment, but it was about… learning to see the world outside of him and his fight. 

It was a reminder that he didn’t love Yeosang just because he helped Wooyoung. 

He loved Yeosang, like the two of them could only ever fall in love. In a paradox. 

He loved Yeosang for every reason in the world… and no reason at all. 

“Pretty… ” Yeosang whispered, voice tired. 

Wooyoung glanced down at him and found his eyes half-open, reflecting silvery moonlight that still made Wooyoung’s lungs give out. He glanced up at the sliver of moon, staring at it quietly. 

Yeosang smiled, quiet and bright and something almost heartbreaking about it. Wooyoung had learned that many things with the Moon were breathtaking and heartbreaking. 

Wooyoung became entranced by Yeosang’s love for the moon. 

He was sure that no one loved their element more than Yeosang loved his moon. And watched Yeosang’s expression as he was in love… 

“It is pretty tonight,” Wooyoung murmured, one hand falling to Yeosang’s hip and resting there. “But you-” 

“Do not,” Yeosang chuckled in a quiet murmur, weak with exhaustion, but still amused. “Do not say I’m prettier.” 

“You are.” 

“But that does not mean you must say it every time,” Yeosang sighed, eyes drifting closed again, though his expression was content. Wooyoung’s heart flipped. “Love makes you say ridiculous things.” 

Wooyoung was quiet, staring at the gentle slopes and falls of Yeosang’s peaceful expression, his heart rate relaxing almost in response. He tightened his hold on Yeosang comfortingly, bringing their bodies closer, and the action ignited that familiar coal to burn its way through Wooyoung’s chest. 

It was a beautiful, painful feeling that Wooyoung had yet to decipher. “Love never made me do a thing I never wanted to do anyway,” he said, almost defensive, though his voice was much too warm.

Yeosang’s soft lips twitched. “Yes, but you’ll cling to those desires like they’re secrets you want to keep.” 

“Maybe they’re best to keep as secrets.” 

The words slipped out in a bit of a tumble, making Wooyoung stutter slightly, but as soon as they were gone, he knew that there was no way Yeosang would let them lay. 

The body in his arm turned slowly, sleepy eyes staring up at Wooyoung with a gentle frown. “What could you possibly say that would ever be better kept as a secret?” he asked, expression pulling down, as if… as if saddened that Wooyoung thought he should need to keep a secret. 

Wooyoung felt that ever familiar urge to run. 

But Wooyoung… Wooyoung had stopped running a long time ago. 

He had stopped himself from running- had gone through the excruciating process of forcing himself to stand his ground, even if his lips shut tight enough that it was useless to stay. Staying in silence was better than running in cowardice.

He had been running for centuries of his existence. It was practically part of his nature at this point. 

But he didn’t run. Not this time. Not anymore. 

When Yeosang frowned at him, Wooyoung didn’t run. He simply kept Yeosang in his arms as he looked away, face burning as his chest grew tighter, as if squeezing the coal with his bare hands. 

“Nothing.” 

“Wooyoung…” 

It was another age old game. 

Wooyoung’s life was actually shockingly devoid of surprises, at this point. 

Everything was rote and worn and practiced. All the same problems, the same issues, the same fights, the same reasoning… it was all about just learning to actually accept these things, rather than just repeat them like a script. 

Wooyoung would dodge the question. Yeosang would stare at him until Wooyoung broke. 

But Wooyoung was  _ trying  _ to learn to stop dodging the question to begin with. 

He was silent, chewing on his tongue. 

“There’s just… some things I’m thinking about. But I don’t… I don’t want to say them yet.” 

That was a legitimate answer. One that had taken Wooyoung the majority of his time to be able to formulate. 

It had taken Yeosang’s soft hands holding Wooyoung’s face, his eyes pained on Wooyoung’s behalf as Yeosang whispered to him that it was  _ okay  _ to not be ready. 

It was  _ okay  _ to not have an answer. 

But Yeosang couldn’t  _ know  _ that he wasn’t ready- that he didn’t know- if Wooyoung didn’t  _ tell him.  _

Wooyoung learned to tear the answer of “I don’t know” or “I can’t yet” out of his throat, feeling like a splinter being dislodged from his skin, painful even as relief came quickly. 

Yeosang absorbed his answer slowly. “You know I love you?” he whispered, half-drunk on his own exhaustion, but staring up at Wooyoung as if it was the only thing he could see. 

It wasn’t just a coy, playful question. 

It was a genuine reminder that Wooyoung had come to appreciate. Because sometimes Love and love got so jumbled, it felt grounding to hear it, rather than feeling it over and over and wondering what was even real anymore. 

“I know,” Wooyoung assured him quietly, resting his chin on Yeosang’s shoulder, throat tightening. “But I… I just want to think it over some more.” 

Because it was like a million strings tangled up in knots, and Wooyoung was still trying to detangle even one string before addressing the rest. 

He needed more time, even as he held Yeosang closer. 

Yeosang was quiet… and then he nodded, relaxing against Wooyoung’s chest. “Don’t let it clog your head,” Yeosang warned gently, squeezing Wooyoung’s hand slowly. 

Wooyoung nodded, his stomach churning faster than his mind. 

It wasn’t time to ask yet. Wooyoung wasn’t even sure what he wanted to ask. But he knew that he wanted something. 

He just needed to figure out what it was. 

One string at a time.

~~~~~~~~~

“Cute.” 

Seonghwa snorted. “You could sound a bit less uncomfortable when you say it.” 

“I’m not uncomfortable,” Hongjoong huffed, knocking his shoulder into Seonghwa’s at the helm. 

The sun was high and hot- Yeosang sleeping soundly on Wooyoung’s shoulder at the other held a quiet conversation with San about something. 

“It’s just… so odd,” Hongjoong chuckled. “It’s… It’s all something that we would have never- in our wildest fantasies- ever thought would happen, you know? Taking War in… teaching him all of this… having him find someone like  _ this- _ ” He gestured to Wooyoung’s arm wrapped protectively around Yeosang’s shoulders. “It’s funny when you think about it, isn’t it?” 

Seonghwa hummed, a laugh caught in there somewhere. “I guess it is. I still don’t exactly know what they found in each other. But it was good for them. Both of them.” 

Because Wooyoung was one of the only things Yeosang had ever felt strongly enough about to  _ want,  _ rather than just to accept. 

And Yeosang was someone… who was somehow everything Wooyoung ever needed. And someone who was more than happy to give it to him. 

“We should get a bigger ship,” Hongjoong murmured, leaning against the helm comfortably. “Give us more room to move around. This one is cozy, but…” 

“Already in the nest building stage?” Seonghwa asked, lips quirked up high and amused and fond, making Hongjoong glare at him. 

“I’m just saying,” Hongjoong said firmly, refusing to let his face heat. “Especially given how much freedom Wooyoung sometimes needs… Maybe we can find one with an opening below deck, so it’s not so closed off. And higher rigging for Yunho. Windows below deck, so Yeosang can see the moon from his room-” 

Hongjoong squawked slightly when Seonghwa chuckled, wrapping his arms around Hongjoong tightly, his chest vibrating with laughter as he pressed a warm kiss to Hongjoong’s neck, resting there for a minute. 

Hongjoong didn’t tense- sighing in amusement as Seonghwa held him, resting his hands over Seonghwa’s around his stomach. 

“Sure,” Seonghwa murmured lightly. “We’ll need lots of room in case we bring in any more strays. And, of course, the kids need room to play-” 

“As if you don’t feel the same way,” Hongjoong said firmly, leaning back to glare at Seonghwa, prompting the other to kiss him rudely in the middle of his sentence. “You can’t say a  _ thing  _ to me.” 

Seonghwa’s hair was windswept, and his eyes bright with the morning light as he captured Hongjoong’s lips firmly, fingers tangling in the long strands of hair. 

Hongjoong sighed in exasperation, but placed a hand against Seonghwa’s jaw as the other pulled away slowly, lips dragging warmly enough that Hongjoong shivered gently as they parted. 

Hongjoong stared at Seonghwa’s eyes that smiled. “I do,” Seonghwa assured him under his breath. “As soon as we find a good one… we’ll get a nicer place for us to travel with. Once Wooyoung can be on land… we’ll give them a better place.” 

Hongjoong had a million things to say, his chest suddenly uncomfortably tight as his throat constricted with warmth bubbling addictingly. 

So he just dragged Seonghwa down, uncaring if the others could see (he knew Wooyoung could definitely tell what was going on), and wrapping arms around his neck as Seonghwa pressed him into the helm, hands covering his hips. 

Maybe the others were yelling at them to keep it below deck. 

Hongjoong could only hear the wind roaring and waves crashing together- sky and sea slamming together in a horizon dyed a hundred brilliantly timeless hues. 

~~~~~~~~~

Wooyoung was warm. 

Yeosang’s eyes kept losing focus as he lay on Wooyoung’s chest, the other’s arms around him loosely as they both laid in the center of the bed.

(The line of whose side was whose had long since blurred out of existence.) 

Wooyoung carefully placed a piece of hair out of Yeosang’s face, tucking it back. “You can sleep,” Wooyoung assured him, even though it was dark outside and within the cabin. “If you’re tired… just rest.” 

“Don’t want to,” Yeosang murmured, sounding a bit more coherent, though his voice was quiet still. “I’m just…” He trailed off before blinking hard. “Just… like being with you...” 

Wooyoung’s stomach froze over slightly. He swallowed thickly, laying a hand against the small of Yeosang’s back. 

“Me, too,” he whispered slowly. “It’s… It’s comforting when I’m around you.” 

Yeosang knew that well. 

Everything else Wooyoung wanted to say was stuck on his tongue as he pressed his lips together. 

“I like when we can just… exist together like this. I feel... “ Wooyoung bit his tongue, shaking his head as that coal in his chest burned another hole. “I don’t know.” 

“Does it have to do with what you weren’t ready to talk about?” Yeosang murmured tiredly. 

Wooyoung stiffened slightly. 

He didn’t think even a hundred- a thousand- years would be enough to get used to how much Yeosang knew with just a glance. 

“Does what have to do with it?” Wooyoung asked stiffly, like a knife was pressed to his skin, though there was no threat anywhere from Yeosang. 

Never from Yeosang.

“Whatever is making you so nervous,” Yeosang said, sitting up slightly with a small groan of effort. Calm eyes stared in Wooyoung’s that were probably like a frightened animal’s. “I can practically feel your presence twitching.” 

“No, you can’t,” Wooyoung responded bluntly, because that was what he did when he was defensive. 

Yeosang gave him an unimpressed look that slowly melted into something concerned. “Are you ready to talk about it?” he asked, rubbing a bit more sleep from his eyes. 

He looked slightly worried. And who wouldn’t be? Even the smallest concerns for Wooyoung could manifest in explosions and fights that were dangerous for all involved. 

Even though he knew… those were the last things Yeosang was concerned about. 

First and foremost… was always Wooyoung. 

But Wooyoung wanted to kick himself for phrasing his concern like it was something so serious. Something for Yeosang to worry about, when he was already tired from the summer solstice that he had slept for four days through. 

“It’s not something to worry about,” Wooyoung blurted, a hand cupping Yeosang’s face just because… because Wooyoung liked touching him. Liked being near him. 

That was sort of… the root of the problem. 

A root that had started growing from the moment Yeosang woke up after killing Chaos. 

“I’m practically always worried about you,” Yeosang murmured, though it came across amused beneath the concern. 

“You don’t have to be… this time,” Wooyoung assured him, stroking a thumb over the soft curve of Yeosang’s cheek. “I’m sorry I made it seem like a big deal. It’s just… I was trying to figure out what exactly it was that I wanted. I didn’t… didn’t want to ask for something that I was just confused about.” 

Yeosang frowned a bit deeper, but in confusion, rather than concern. “Did you figure out what you wanted?” he asked gently.

Wooyoung felt vaguely ill, but it was mostly nerves. “I think so.” 

And maybe Wooyoung hadn’t known before Yeosang asked him just now… but he was pretty sure he knew. 

Maybe he’d always known and was just afraid. 

A slow eyebrow lifted above eyes that were gentle… understanding… patient… things Wooyoung had hated for a while. Things he never realized how much he needed. 

Things that made warmth burst like fireworks in his chest as the urge to tug Yeosang closer and never let go suddenly expanded. 

“What is it?” Yeosang asked, and Wooyoung could tell by the dimness in his eyes that he didn’t know what was going on behind Wooyoung’s eyes. 

Wooyoung knew how much he hated when he couldn’t read them easily. 

It scared Yeosang. Made him feel lost. 

Wooyoung didn’t want to drag out that feeling. 

He swallowed around the desert in his mouth, not tearing his eyes away from Yeosang’s quiet ones. 

Wooyoung was terrified, but Yeosang’s presence canceled it out enough for him to just feel a numb panic. 

“You know… that being with you is… is a comfort to me,” Wooyoung managed, voice stronger than he imagined it would be. “Not- Not just a comfort, it- it’s good. Good being near you, you know-” 

He wasn’t making sense, was he?

But Yeosang merely nodded slowly, as if he understood. He always seemed to understand. 

“I like… being near you,” Wooyoung said firmly, probably using a weird tone. “Being close with you… It- It feels… feels like…” Wooyoung’s tongue tangled on itself, and he sighed, swallowing as his jaw tightened. 

Yeosang still waited patiently. 

Wooyoung stared at his eyes, feeling the tug to get lost in them. 

“I love you… Yeosang,” Wooyoung whispered, voice suddenly weakening as emotions caught in his throat. “I want… to be near you. Being with you… it makes me feel like there’s nothing else in this world I could possibly want. It makes me feel…  _ happy.  _ Knowing that you’re safe, that you’re with me- I love you.” 

He still didn’t quite know if he was making sense. 

“I know,” Yesoang whispered, just that little assurance slamming into Wooyoung’s chest. 

“I want… to always be with you,” Wooyoung said in a hurry, feeling like he was about to lose his nerve. “I kept feeling that urge, to be closer… It seemed like I always wanted to be closer, as if we weren’t ever  _ close enough…  _ and I didn’t know what it was that I wanted.” 

Wooyoung’s hands were shaking. It wasn’t out of fear. 

His spine was buzzing powerfully, making him wince, but ultimately ignoring it. 

“I- I didn’t know what it was I wanted. I kept trying to think about it- to figure it out. I wasn’t- I wasn’t  _ dissatisfied,  _ but it felt like there was  _ something  _ more I was missing-” 

“Do you want me like that?” Yeosang whispered, voice a bit thick as Wooyoung choked off. 

Yeosang stared at him calmly, something gentle in his eyes. 

“Do you want… to be closer to me like that?” Yeosang questioned gently, eyes shining. 

Wooyoung stared, tongue effectively cut out. 

Yeosang kept staring, light shining from his eyes warmly, and Wooyoung felt everything else fade away. 

His hand suddenly wrapped around Yeosang’s hand, holding it tightly as his other traced his thumb beneath his eye gently. 

“I kept feeling… like I wanted to melt into you, to meld with you or something…” Wooyoung swallowed. “There was no room left, but I still… I felt almost scared by the distance I still felt. And I didn’t know what exactly I wanted…. I know now, though,” he admitted. 

Yeosang’s lips twitched up, finally knowing what was coming. 

It didn’t exactly make it any easier to say. But Yeosang didn’t have to pry it out of Wooyoung’s mouth. This one, he gave freely. 

They were closer than Wooyoung realized, breaths mingling. He could have shifted only an inch or so and melded their lips together. 

He didn’t yet. 

“I want to be  _ one  _ with you,” Wooyoung whispered hoarsely, eyes flickering across Yeosang’s face. “I want to be so close to you- in the most intimate way I know how to be-” 

Something shifted in Yeosang’s eyes that Wooyoung couldn’t quite read. 

“I’ll never take a single thing from you, Yeosang,” Wooyoung swore, a bit breathless. 

Because Yeosang was breathtaking. 

And Wooyoung finally, finally had a name for what he wanted. 

Yeosang. 

He wanted Yeosang. 

“I’ll never take a single thing you aren’t willing to give,” he whispered firmly. “But I want to love you every day of my life, in every way I know how.” 

“When?”

Wooyoung blinked, taken aback by the question Yeosang murmured peacefully, as if nothing was wrong in all the world. 

“W-What?” Wooyoung stammered, blinking rapidly. “When what?”

“When do you want that?” Yeosang questioned calmly, staring at Wooyoung without a hint of shock, eyes serene and beautiful- “Now?”

_ Now? _

“Is that all you have to say?” Wooyoung demanded weakly, feeling like his heart was threatening to fail. This was not exactly the reaction he expected.

Yeosang’s calm expression lifted in a gentle smile that made Wooyoung’s stomach flip. 

Suddenly he was kneeling on the bed beside Wooyoung, his hands covering Wooyoung’s on Yeosang’s face, cool hands overlapping his warm ones. 

“What answer did you want?” Yeosang questioned, voice sounding gentle and serene, as if this was perfectly reasonable. 

As if Wooyoung hadn’t been panicking over his internal debate for weeks. Months. Years, unknowingly. 

“Any!” Wooyoung demanded breathlessly as Yeosang laughed quietly, completely at ease. 

His eyes shone where they found Wooyoung’s. “Is that not an answer? I thought it would mean an obvious yes.” 

He voice was so soft, comforting, gentle, as delicate as moonlight- 

“It sounded as if you were trying to fit me into a schedule,” Wooyoung said forcefully, cheeks heating when Yeosang simply laughed again, Wooyoung shoving a hand at Yeosang’s chest in embarrassed frustration as he turned away- 

Yeosang caught his hand, holding it so tenderly between two gentle ones that curled their fingers together. 

“Maybe I am,” Yeosang whispered, suddenly much closer, one leg thrown over one of Wooyoung’s until their noses were brushing. “After all, I’ve got a busy life ahead of me, Wooyoung. I have to make sure I have room for you to fill the rest of it.” 

Wooyoung froze, breath stalling in his chest. He stared up at Yeosang who smiled serenely down at him, as if he were already imagining a hundred years or more- 

“I told you,” Yeosang whispered, resting their foreheads together as cool fingers stroked Wooyoung’s hand and arm. “You make me… want to be selfish, Wooyoung.” 

His eyes were clear and direct, but Wooyoung saw the lingering tension there… the kind that came from ignoring the larger part of your nature in favor of being happy. 

“I’ll follow your lead,” Yeosang promised, knuckles stroking the swell of Wooyoung’s cheek tenderly. “However much of me that you want, I’ll give to you. But I… I won’t pretend like I don’t have a… preference.” 

Both of them had grown. In different ways. 

“I’ll ask again,” Yeosang murmured, lips lifting slowly as his eyes shone, hands framing Wooyoung’s face gently. “When… would you want that?” 

Wooyoung felt a breath force its way into his chest, his body demanding that he respond-

“Whenever,” Wooyoung breathed, hands coming and gripping Yeosang’s tightly as the other smiled, surges of buzzes roaring up Wooyoung’s spine in a way that almost felt like excitement. “Whenever you want, for as long as you want, Yeosang...”

He lifted a shaking hand, touching Yeosang’s pale face almost in fascination, feeling the smooth, soft skin beneath his worn fingertips as Yeosang grabbed his hand, holding it tightly and leaning into the touch- 

Wooyoung most certainly did not  _ need  _ that type of intimacy. 

But he wanted it. Wanted to feel Yeosang, and have Yeosang feel him as one, as intimate and close as they could. Their presences mingling until there was no longer a line between them- 

This had nothing to do with Love. And everything to do with Wooyoung. 

Wooyoung choked slightly when Yeosang suddenly captured his mouth in a kiss that drew a startled moan. 

Shivers ran across every inch of skin, making him seize slightly as he wrapped arms around Yeosang, pulling him closer on instinct as he shifted forward on Wooyoung’s legs until they were chest to chest, lips and tongue tangling slow and hot- 

It felt like a weight sitting on a chest. 

Not a bad one. One that kept him floating off. One that felt like Yeosang’s head resting on his chest, a comfort instead of an oppression. 

Wooyoung expected Love to cloud his head, but everything felt… almost hyper-focused. Sharp, intense, and his mind picking up everything. 

From the small moans that caught in Yeosang’s throat each time Wooyoung drew him closer with hands sliding beneath clothes, to the gentle weight of Yeosang in his lap, to the pressure of his fingertips pressing and massaging Wooyoung’s neck and shoulders and sides- 

It all lit up like gunpowder, blinding and fierce and mesmerizing. 

The coal in Wooyoung’s chest was fanned by every touch, threatening to catch the dry kindling of his heart in a blaze. 

Wooyoung’s eyes were closed, but everything played out before him as if he were staring at it with the utmost scrutiny. 

He felt as Yeosang’s body grew heavier with a desire to be closer, their lips becoming uncoordinated as hands began slipping beneath their shirts, running soft and rough hands across each other- 

Wooyoung sighed against Yeosang’s lips as his fingertips pressed into soft skin, making Yeosang laugh breathlessly as he rose up on his knees slowly. Wooyoung’s head was tipped back to follow the kiss, following blindly but so very willingly- 

Wooyoung loved him. 

Yeosang’s lips suddenly strayed from his lip, brushing up to his temple, resting there and brushing against the shell of his ear as his hands trailed idly across Wooyoung’s body as if-

As if… they had all the time in the world. 

Only after several moments did Wooyoung’s eyes crack open, chest rising and falling perhaps a bit too fast, but his heart was beating out of his chest, almost overwhelmed, but the sensation so familiar by now- 

He knew that Love and War were still thrumming in the distance. 

But they were so quiet, it was as if nothing in the world existed but Yeosang and the flames licking at Wooyoung’s blood that had nothing to do with his elements. 

“How do you want this?” Yeosang breathed, swallowing thickly. 

The words slammed everything in clarity. 

This was happening. 

When Yeosang shifted back, Wooyoung caught sight of the gentle flush across Yeosng’s pale cheeks, knowing that he likely looked no better himself, but the sight made his grip tight on Yeosang’s hips. 

“Don’t care,” he breathed, head resting against the headboard, too distracted to hold itself up. “However- I just want you near- want you close- close to me-” 

Yeosang hushed him unnecessarily, and something dangerously close to a whine left Wooyoung’s lips as Yeosang’s fingers trailed over his neck soothingly. 

Yeosang was so close. 

Wooyoung wanted him closer, wanted their presences to meld, for there to be no space left to separate them- 

That was what he wanted since he almost lost Yeosang. Ever since Chaos almost took him, ever since that almost-death that separated them-

“I know,” Yeosang whispered, sounding equal parts amused and something lower, deeper clinging to his voice as his hands trailed to the hem of Wooyoung’s shirt. “May I?” he asked, staring at Wooyoung’s half-lidded eyes intently.

_ I won’t take this from you.  _

Wooyoung rose up quickly, kissing him hard and gentle, fingers clinging a bit too hard, but Yeosang groaned, head dropping to Wooyoung’s neck, both of their hands wandering, feeling, basking- 

“Yes,” Wooyoung murmured, barely getting the word out before his vision was blocked by his shirt being gingerly removed, careful not to catch on his face- 

Little things.

A million little things that only made the heat in his blood grow stronger, almost painful as Yeosang carefully fixed his hair that his shirt mess up, the way he set the shirt aside gently, the nearly overwhelming light in his eyes as he paused and stared at Wooyoung for a moment, as if forgetting what he was doing- 

As if awed. 

_ You’re breathtaking.  _

The process of devesting was a bit delayed by the fact Wooyoung kept feeling his chest tighten, only loosening after he kissed Yeosang again and again, as if each action needed to be preceded by it. 

It was an addicting sensation, and Wooyoung’s blood ran faster at the thought of what was coming- 

Of what they were about to give each other. 

Yeosang stared at Wooyoung, half naked and leaning back on the headboard, eyes drawing over him slowly… 

Wooyoung shivered under his cool gaze that felt like hands tickling their way across his skin. 

“You’re still breathtaking,” Yeosang whispered, a bit breathless as he dropped his eyes quickly, focusing on ridding his own shirt- 

Wooyoung kissed him, determined not to weep yet again during such a moment as this. 

It was… a startlingly difficult resolution to keep as Yeosang held him firm but gentle, stroking in both comfort and a simple desire to touch- 

Wooyoung almost forgot that this wasn’t the end game, all his senses filled with Yeosang- touch and taste and scent as Yeosang worked them both closer… 

Whatever… 

Whatever Wooyoung thought… would happen… Whatever preconceptions he had were promptly obliterated at Yeosang’s first touch. 

Wooyoung had imagined… something wild and uncontrolled. He knew what sex was- he knew all forms of it, from meaningless action to passionate emotion. 

He was Love. He knew this intimately. 

This fell into no category he knew. 

It was something so… so gentle. As if he were a figure made of glass. Yeosang touched him as if a single ounce of pressure may break him. 

And Wooyoung would have called that ridiculous- he had experienced things much more painful and breaking. 

He might have voiced it, if he didn’t feel like he was slowly falling apart at the seams as Yeosang’s first cool finger touched him. 

He expected his body to thrash and convulse, like he was dying. He expected that overwhelming sensation and buzzing in his veins to break out like a violent red mist escaping… 

But even as his insides shivered and crawled with heat and desire and  _ love-  _

Wooyoung merely gasped quietly, head falling back to his pillows he now laid on as his hand searched frantically for something to ground him as it felt like he had lost all connection to gravity-

Yeosang’s other hand gripped Wooyoung’s tightly, his chest rising and falling rapidly as waves of love washed over him like warm waves on a beach- 

Yeosang’s thumb was stroking his hand slowly, somehow an adequate distraction until they continued. 

Wooyoung cried out weakly, the sensation almost out-of-body as he shifted minutely, trying to be closer each time Yeosang’s fingers pulled away, only to come closer again- 

He almost glanced over Yeosang’s physical presence, too enveloped by the pulsing presence of him seared into Wooyoung’s mind, growing closer and warmer and more solid- 

The only reason he stayed aware of himself was the gentle whispers floating into his ears as Yeosang practically covered his body with his own, a comforting weight that had Wooyoung’s legs wrapping around him as best they could, wanting him closer- 

“I love you,” Yeosang murmured, voice low enough to travel through Wooyoung’s bones. His gentle fingers slowly removed, taking a moment to gently massage soothing circles in Wooyoung’s hip and lower abdomen, the touch still making Wooyoung tremble. 

Every touch sent waves through Wooyoung, and not even most of them were arousal. 

“I love you-” Yeosang whispered soothingly, cool hand making Wooyoung shiver. “It’s okay, just breathe… Just relax, I’ve got you-” 

He had him. 

Wooyoung knew he was there- knew that he was protected, safe, surrounded- 

They were closer than they’d ever been, and Wooyoung felt familiar waves of calm washing over him as Yeosang’s presence hovered above him- 

He loved him. 

Love him so much, everything and all else aside, just Yeosang, no Moon or Love or War, he loved him- 

Loved his presence, just being near him, wanted him happy, Yeosang wanted him happy, happy together- 

For every reason… and for none at all. 

“I know, Wooyoung, I know,” Yeosang whispered, free hand tracing his face, brushing his hair back, as if Wooyoung had been muttering it all aloud, and maybe he had, but he meant it, always wanted to say it- 

Everything was warm, but it only made Yeosang’s cool presence stand out like a balm, like a gentle touch on sun burnt skin, soothing and comforting and focused. 

Wooyoung could hear his own vocalness, how quiet and muted it came- soft gasps and weak whimpers as his mouth fell open, eyes opening for short moments where he watched Yeosang press gentle kisses to the dips of his hips. 

Wooyoung could have wept. 

Maybe he did. 

He felt like every part of him was disconnected, like everything was numb and over-sensitive at once. Nothing broke free, no wild cries or thrashing forms.. 

Yeosang loved him gently. 

And Wooyoung loved gently in turn. 

Yeosang’s presence suddenly retreated with his fingers, and Wooyoung cried out as everything suddenly seemed distant- 

Yeosang hushed him, his physical body laying heavily over Wooyoung’s like a gentle reminder he was there. Wooyoung’s face pressed into the curve of Yeosang’s neck, skin cool against his feverish forehead, his stomach twisting in knots as Yeosang dragged his fingers through Wooyoung’s hair gently. 

Yeosang lay atop him like a blanket against the wind. 

“Ready?” Yeosang whispered, breaking through the fog of pleasure and heat and cold and  _ love-  _

Wooyoung was drowning in it. 

Drowning in Yeosang, who had become synonymous with it. 

He felt Yeosang shift forward, laying their chests together, and Wooyoung managed to open his eyes, not surprised to find his vision slightly blurred- 

Yeosang’s cool fingertips brushed the unfallen tears away, his entire face glowing with moonlight, despite having their room cut off from outside. 

The silvery glow washed over both of them as Wooyoung’s hand refused to release Yeosang’s. 

“W-Wait,” he croaked, Yeosang having long since paused his movement, already waiting for Wooyoung’s word. 

Wooyoung’s eyes burned, but he blinked it away as he stared up at Yeosang’s gentle expression, eyes shining even as his irises grew dark. 

“Like- Like we usually do,” Wooyoung managed, voice and mind a bit scattered, but he tugged Yeosang to the side gently. 

Yeosang… as in all things… understood, even when Wooyoung didn’t have the words. 

“Roll to your side,” Yeosang whispered, helping Wooyoung shift without releasing their hands. 

Wooyoung curled up slightly, the naked position a bit exposing- 

Yeosang’s body lay behind him, and Wooyoung forgot about everything but him as he leaned back into his chest, feeling familiar arms wrap around his chest, holding them back-to-chest as their legs tangled. 

“Good?” Yeosang murmured, fingers dancing lightly over the skin of Wooyoung’s stomach and sides, almost ticklish. 

Wooyoung’s heart and soul felt full to bursting as he tugged on Yeosang’s hand, and the other  _ understood.  _

Yeosang shifted until he was wrapped around Wooyoung completely, like a full bodied embrace- arms to legs, the curve of their bodies melding as his lips rested just behind Wooyoung’s ear, breaths tickling his skin. 

Wooyoung shut his eyes tight and nodded stiffly. 

He could feel every breath from Yeosang. Every shift. Every movement. 

“Ready?” Yeosang whispered, arms holding Wooyoung tight to his chest, his own desire for proximity bleeding through as Wooyoung lay in his arms. 

Their skin was warm even if Yeosang was cool and relieving. 

Wooyoung nodded weakly, eyes shut gently. “Yes,” he whispered, surprised by the solidity of his own voice. 

Wooyoung felt the Moon swallow him whole. 

Yeosang was everywhere. 

Beside, around, within-  _ everywhere.  _ Wooyoung cried out weakly as he clenched Yeosang’s hand tighter- no pain or regret, only… only the overwhelming warmth pounding in his chest that was  _ Yeosang- _

He felt Yeosang’s breath hitch in his ear, his abdomen shaking against Wooyoung’s back as stuttering breaths exhaled weakly, his hands trembling as they latched onto Wooyoung’s- 

Cool moonlight wrapped around them. Wooyoung could see the gentle light through his shut eyes, despite being inside. He cracked his eyes open for a moment as his chest heaved in weak breaths. 

Yeosang’s skin glowed a silvery brightness, cold and solid as Wooyoung felt his skin heating. 

He could feel every part of Yeosang. Yeosang… held every part of him. 

A wave of calm settled over him as he shut his eyes.

Like a blanket wrapped around him by gentle hands telling him to rest… 

Tension bled from his body until he no longer held himself like stone, loose and malleable, as if finally releasing a breath you hadn’t known you were holding, where Yeosang held him gently. 

“ _ Wooyoung,”  _ Yeosang whispered breathlessly, his bare chest pressing against Wooyoung’s back tightly, allowing him to feel their rapid heartbeats- 

Wooyoung opened his eyes slowly, staring at the bed where their hands were tangled, fingers wrapped tightly, as if it was the one thing keeping them grounded. 

It took a moment to see in the semi-darkness. But Wooyoung stared blearily at their joined, trembling hands. 

Silver moonlight bled across their bodies as crimson mist crawled over pale skin. 

Wooyoung watched them, his heart skipping a beat, mesmerized by the dancing elements as his breath caught in his throat as Yeosang shifted minutely, sending sparks of pleasure up Wooyoung’s spine as he gasped quietly- 

It felt like every kind of Love. 

Like pleasure and love and lust and gentle and hot and slow and endless- 

The crimson mist grew thicker, like waving their hands through a dense fog, thrown into shadow and contrast as moonlight flooded across it.

Both Wooyoung and Yeosang froze, their breath a little short, knuckles turning white for how hard they held on. 

Yeosang hadn’t moved, remaining still as he slowly pet Wooyoung’s hair soothingly, stroking it out of his face with a weak hand as Wooyoung trembled, feeling…  _ encased.  _

Wrapped from every side and angle and surrounded- 

Wooyoung released a slow breath as the final tension bled from his body, fully melting into Yeosang’s hold, pulling their hands to his chest where Yeosang could surely feel his heart rabbiting, but it felt- felt- 

It felt so good. Right and solid and comforting. 

Yeosang was so close, Wooyoung could taste his presence in his very blood that thrummed. 

He was so close. 

Close enough to finally fill that gaping hole that had been left in Wooyoung’s chest. A hole he hadn’t even known existed. 

Wooyoung felt full, felt safe, felt  _ close,  _ felt  _ loved-  _

“Love you,” Wooyoung whispered, voice a bit too hoarse and rough, but softened around the edges as he stared at their mural of crimson and silver whispering across the bed. He closed his eyes. “I love you- I can- I can  _ feel it,  _ I know it’s there, Yeosang- 

“I know,” Yeosang whispered, continuing to stroke through Wooyoung’s hair slowly, methodically. “I know, Wooyoung, I always knew…I can feel it, too-”

He could feel it too. Yeosang could feel it- love, not Love. 

Their love was the only one that mattered. 

For a moment… there was nothing in all the world but the two of them. 

“Do you want me to move?” Yeosang murmured in Wooyoung’s air, low and calm, automatically calming Wooyoung’s racing heart into something slow and strong. 

“Not yet,” Wooyoung said, a touch desperate as he tightened his hold on Yeosang’s hands, feeling them holding him, too. “Not- Just… stay like this. Just for a moment,” he breathed. 

“As long as you want,” Yeosang agreed without a moment’s hesitation, electricity gathering at the base of Wooyoung’s spine and warmth pooling in his stomach. 

Neither moved, aside from Yeosang’s gentle hands trailing wherever their fancy brought them, making Wooyoung shiver gently, but it was… it was like locking the door against the world. 

Yeosang’s touch trailed idly along Wooyoung, as if there was nothing rushing them in all the world. As if he was content to spend his night, his week, his  _ life…  _

Just holding Wooyoung like this. Without a single other need. 

Wooyoung wept silently, but there was not an ounce of sadness or regret or anger in his blood. 

Yeosang hushed him, stroking his cheek to wipe away the tears, but not trying to stop them. He knew what they were for. 

Wooyoung felt  _ loved.  _

This… This wasn’t about… pleasure. Not really. 

The physical pleasure was there, most certainly- running up Wooyoung’s spine and making him grasp desperately at Yeosang’s arm for a moment when they shifted even slightly, both of them catching moans and gasps in their throats. 

It was there. 

But it was muted, like a disconnect of the physical from his actual mind that was lighting up like lightning across the sky with the mere proximity of  _ Yeosang.  _

_ Yeosang’s presence, his body, his mind, his touch, a cloud of sensation and godly power that was Yeosang-  _

_ Everywhere-  _

Wooyoung basked. He clung, he soaked up Yeosang like a plant reached for sunlight. He lay still without a single thought but how… how there was nowhere safer for him. 

Nowhere that would give him the same comfort. The same love. 

So much love, it was pouring off of Wooyoung in waves- 

“I like this,” Yeosang whispered suddenly, jarring Wooyoung out of his thoughts and making him realize he had no idea how long he had asked Yeosang to stay like this. But he could feel Yeosang’s soft lips against his skin, gentle and warm. “Holding you like this… Being able to… to just exist with you… It feels…” 

He trailed off, warmth slowly spreading across Wooyoung’s veins as his eyes burned. 

He knew Love hurt. But this love… it overwhelmed, but it didn’t hurt. It merely filled Wooyoung to the brim, until he felt like he couldn’t hold anymore, but then it simply overflowed- 

He watched crimson mist dance across his and Yeosang’s hands. 

“I’d stay like this forever, gladly,” Yeosang murmured, pressing a gentle kiss to the curve of his neck, making a shiver run across his skin. “You’re calm like this,” he breathed. “Peaceful… It makes me feel good,” he whispered. “Seeing you happy…” 

Yeosang tucked his face into the curve of Wooyoung’s neck, breathing slowly, as if he was trying to keep some emotion from spilling over. 

“I love you,” Yeosang mouthed into his neck. Whether by the sensations in his blood or the familiarity of the words, Wooyoung knew that he said. 

He curled up slowly, making them both gasp quietly as they shifted, but neither moved as Yeosang held him tighter, until Wooyoung felt like his heart would burst. 

Wooyoung had known contentment before, but it was still a concept he had convinced himself was a long distance away. 

Yeosang had traveled so far with Wooyoung- at his side, dragging him along, and standing quietly as Wooyoung tried to get his own feet underneath himself… 

Offering a hand where it was needed, and urging Wooyoung without a single movement to aid because he knew Wooyoung was strong enough, knew he could do it- 

Belief wasn’t necessarily a form of Love. But it fanned love into raging flames that consumed Wooyoung quietly. 

It was so quiet as he lay with Yeosang. And Wooyoung couldn’t think of a single thing he’d change right now. 

Yeosang was surrounding him- thrumming, pulsing, alive, present, solid. 

(Everything he wasn’t when Chaos almost took him. Everything that Wooyoung had been starved of for those days, the things that he had learned to seek out-)

Safe. Comforting. Constant. 

Bright and guiding and reliable as the Moon that passed around them. 

Love practically sang in his presence, but Wooyoung could only hear Yeosang’s slow heartbeat like a clock ticking. 

It didn’t tick down- counting down the minutes they had left. 

It counted  _ up-  _ giving Wooyoung moment after moment that they had each other, that they had peace, that they… that they could exist together. 

It counted every moment that Wooyoung realized he wasn’t alone, destined to die, hated and scorned… 

His heartbeat ticked up the moments they had until eternity. 

Centuries had seemed to pass by in a blur. But his time with Yeosang dragged by, every moment standing out- stark and shining and bright. 

Yeosang continued to whisper against Wooyoung’s skin, and Wooyoung felt the words more than he heard them. They washed over him, cool and encasing and comforting as they clung, their presences mingled in silver and crimson- 

“I love you…” 

“I love you…” 

Wooyoung had heard a million iterations of it over centuries- had walked through it day after day, numb to it… 

But he felt Yeosang in every tip of his nerves, ringing and singing and practically crying out in his presence that was now so close, all around- 

Wooyoung had once told Yeosang that a memory was enough. Enough to show him that there was a possibility for happiness, for peace, for calm… 

For love. 

This moment… of Wooyoung in Yeosang’s arms as they lay as one, both of them still and quiet, basking in the other’s presence… it was a moment like no other. One that burned itself into Wooyoung’s memory, prepared to become a moment to reflect back on. 

A reminder that… that there was ample love and comfort waiting for him. 

A reminder that Yeosang was special like this. That Wooyoung was special to Yeosang like this. 

A reminder… that they had eternity to bask. 

Wooyoung no longer wished to die. He no longer looked at his endless days and begged them to end, to let him rest. 

He stared at eternity… and he didn’t see eternity. 

He simply saw endless days of Yeosang standing at his side. Constant and solid… and flanked by six others who waited, hands on their hips in fond exasperation but gentle pride as he stumbled after them, hand outstretched. 

Seven hands reached back to him, laughing at his unsteadiness. 

But when he stumbled, their grips were firm, not letting him fall completely. They didn’t drag him up, but rather held him until he managed to get his footing, struggling to stand. 

But he stood. 

And they waited. 

Yeosang walked beside him, unbothered of his slow pace… And they walked towards eternity. 

And Wooyoung… Wooyoung looked forward to it. For the first time in War and Love’s existence… Wooyoung  _ hoped.  _

And Yeosang held him like there wasn’t a force in this world that could make him drop him. 

Not even Chaos itself had been strong enough to tear him away. 

And Wooyoung basked in that love. 

The Moon rained love like a sprinkle in the desert as a parched and starved War and love soaked it up. 

Yeosang’s presence mingled with Wooyoung’s. 

And together, they existed. 

~~~~~~~~~

Hongjoong felt a lurch in his chest- a rush of warmth and a tight pressure constricting his lungs. 

A sensation he was all too familiar with, but not usually while he was sitting against the helm. 

He saw Seonghwa place an unsure hand to his chest as the moon suddenly shone brighter- flooding everything in bright, silvery light. 

Hongjoong’s blood felt warm, his skin a bit tight, as the moon’s light shrank back, but continued to pulse gently, almost unnoticeable, but enough that both of them exchanged looks before glancing back at the doorway down to below deck. 

He heard Seonghwa chuckle peacefully. “Well…” His hand trailed until it rested on Hongjoong’s knee, squeezing. “I suppose they’ve worked through  _ that  _ elephant in the room.” 

“I suppose so,” Hongjoong murmured, not at all surprised by the fact. 

He had been waiting for it to happen for years now. It seemed Wooyoung finally found the courage. Or the words… 

Hongjoong didn’t feel uncomfortable as a sensation usually reserved for fondness ran through his chest without reason and the moon pulsed like a beacon in the night. 

He knew what it meant. 

He merely stared. 

“Really?” Seonghwa questioned, turning eyes that reflected the bright moonlight onto Hongjoong with a raised eyebrow. “Not even a vague threat to Wooyoung?”

Hongjoong huffed, knocking at Seonghwa’s arm, but leaning against his side anyway, ignoring the gentle flickering of the moon. 

The Sea and Sky were calm tonight. 

“I’ve threatened him enough before this point,” Hongjoong assured him. “He knows what’s expected of him.” 

Seonghwa hummed in agreement. “And it has nothing to do with the fact that you’ve long since accepted him as one of us?”

“I can threatened one of my crew,” Hongjoong said stubbornly. “It’s practically my job.” 

Seonghwa sighed, wrapping an arm around Hongjoong’s back and rubbing a hand up and down his bicep. “Just say you’re proud of them, instead of acting as if you’re indifferent.” 

Hongjoong didn’t move, staring off into the gently lapping waves. 

He was proud. Everyone knew it. 

Proud of Wooyoung for coming so far- emotionally and physically. He controlled his elements better every day, and he was learning… learning how to want and give, without tearing himself apart or fearing what might be taken. 

He learned to love Yeosang without fearing. He learned to Love without losing himself, and he learned… how to take the steps that he wanted. 

Even if it had taken him a good few years just to voice the fact that he wanted to exist with Yeosang intimately. Hongjoong couldn’t blame him for taking his time- Wooyoung was moving at his own pace. 

Seonghwa and Hongjoong had danced around each other, but Hongjoong had to believe they had been better than  _ this.  _ This real and blatant acknowledgement of what they meant to each other, but an utter inability to realize to what extent. 

(Hongjoong couldn’t really blame them. In fact, he’d cut off his own arm before thinking of blaming them for a single thing they’d ever chosen to do.) 

But regardless… part of him had felt pained, watching Wooyoung stare at Yeosang with such a familiar pain in his eyes, but his every gaze filled with such conflictions… 

He knew Wooyoung was still nervous, still unsure. He didn’t want to ask for something he didn’t want… and he didn’t want to think he desired something that he actually didn’t. 

He wanted a clear view of his emotions and desires. 

He was slowly gaining that. 

And Hongjoong was proud. Proud of him, proud of Yeosang- who had learned how to want things, to be selfish, to read Wooyoung like his favorite book… 

They were… good for each other, in the strangest way possible. Hongjoong would have never thought Love and the Moon would fall for each other. 

Neither, had he ever thought Yeosang and Wooyoung would fall to the extent they had fallen. 

But then again, his and Seonghwa’s entire existence was a running joke among gods, so it wasn’t really that far fetched. 

“I am proud,” Hongjoong murmured, still staring at the waves. “And I’m… happy for them. For what they found…” 

He was happy that Wooyoung found that grounding element. That he had found someone who could tether, but not restrict him. 

Happy that Yeosang had found someone he could be selfish for. That he could feel strongly enough to want things. 

It was… actually beautiful to watch unfold. 

And Hongjoong was  _ proud  _ of them. 

Seonghwa chuckled, pressing a brief kiss to the corner of Hongjoong’s mouth. “Things are moving faster than we thought, aren’t they?”

Decades were nothing to gods. But these years, more than any others, dragged by so intently. But still, it seemed like only yesterday that War was stepping onto Hongjoong’s ship, bringing an air of dread with him. 

Like only yesterday, Yeosang begged him to give this broken god a chance… A better and more genuine person than Hongjoong would ever dare to hope to be. 

He told himself he would make a big deal of it- threatening Wooyoung and making the two of them suffer, like they had always teased him and Seonghwa endlessly- 

At this moment… he could only sigh and think of all the things they had gone through that made them deserve to have this, uninterrupted and without teasing. 

They deserved this. They had worked for this over  _ years.  _

Hongjoong couldn’t bring himself to make fun of it. 

He leaned into Seonghwa for a moment before sighing. “Shall we go back in?” he questioned, glancing up at Seonghwa who was staring down at him warmly. 

“Wait a few more minutes,” Seonghwa murmured, guiding Hongjoong closer gently. “It’s a nice night… And I’m content here for a bit longer…” 

It had been a while since they had spent any time on deck at night- usually taking that time in their quarters, allowing the crew time to wander and rest. 

Hongjoong didn’t complain though, leaning fully against Seonghwa, both of them quiet. 

After an amount of time that Hongjoong didn’t count, the moon fell back to its usual brightness, and the warmth in his chest slowly faded. 

He heard Seonghwa chuckled quietly. “I suppose they’re done,” he murmured. 

Hongjoong hummed, staring off, oddly at peace within Seonghwa’s arms under the night sky that stained the sea a beautiful inky black. 

No, they weren’t done. 

It was only just beginning. 

~~~~~~~~~~

Yeosang settled back behind Wooyoung, watching his peacefully sleeping face as he discarded the rag that he had cleaned them with. 

Despite the tiredness in his bones, he felt no urge to sleep as he watched Wooyoung’s gently parted lips take gentle breaths that made his bare chest rise and fall slowly. 

Wooyoung rarely slept fully. Usually, he only drifted a bit, still too aware to get much rest. 

Now, though… he was real and truly asleep, eyelashes brushing his cheeks as Yeosang slid beside him, drawing the blanket back up to cover their still bare bodies. 

It felt… good. Something calm and gentle settled over the two of them. Something content and sated and soothing. 

Yeosang had never done something like this before. Not with anyone, over centuries. There was no regret in his chest that Wooyoung might be the first and only one who shared this with Yeosang. 

Yeosang pressed his forehead to the curve of Wooyoung’s neck, breathing in the scent of him- of sea salt and warmth and something of the two of them. 

Despite the coolness of his skin, every contact point with Wooyoung was warm and soothing, like warm hands gently rubbing at his skin comfortingly, telling him it was okay. 

Yeosang felt like he could lay here forever. Wrapped around Wooyoung, watching him sleep peacefully… 

Yeosang watched Wooyoung for the same reasons he watched the moon. 

He was beautiful, he was breathtaking, he was familiar, and Yeosang felt an indescribable magnetic pull drawing him forward constantly. 

Yeosang watched Wooyoung because he loved him. 

Wooyoung… used to be heartbreaking. And part of him still was. But Yeosang… He looked at Wooyoung now and he just  _ smiled.  _

Something like pride, like love, like joy, like contentment, like  _ warmth-  _

Wooyoung fit in Yeosang’s arms too well, curled up and so vulnerable, but so open and willing and bright… He was so beautiful. Inside and out, element and not. 

Wooyoung was breathtaking. 

And Yeosang was too far gone to ever question when or why that was. He had stopped wondering a long time ago. 

He just  _ loved.  _ He didn’t know or really care why. 

Yeosang supported his head on one hand as he hovered over Wooyoung slightly, watching his gentle, peaceful face remain lax and peaceful, breathing quietly. 

Idly, he brushed some of Wooyoung’s longer hair from his forehead and eyes, tucking it back and holding his breath for a moment. 

The touch made Wooyoung shift, turning until he lay on his back, rather than facing away from Yeosang. 

He had never seen Wooyoung sleep so deep before. 

Wooyoung’s hair fanned over the pillow, pink lips parting in quiet breaths. 

He loved him so much, it was frightening at moments, catching Yeosang off guard when the fondness and protectiveness in his chest suddenly surged with a fiery warmth that made Yeosang want. 

Want everything for Wooyoung, with Wooyoung- 

Yeosang had watched… he watched Wooyoung’s anger turn to desperation, turn to helplessness, turn to hopelessness… turn to skepticism, turn to fearful hope, turn to determination, turn to bright eyes and quiet smiles, turn to victories over fear and habit… 

Turn to love that poured out like water overflowing from a cup. 

Yeosang  _ watched  _ Love be reborn. 

And pride was too weak a word for the pressure in his chest everytime he looked at Wooyoung. 

He settled down fully beside Wooyoung, an arm resting over his waist, fingertips brushing over warm, smooth skin. 

Still in sleep, Wooyoung shifted again at the weight on his waist, turning into Yeosang’s chest before falling still again, arms tucked in, making Yeosang’s chest swell as he wrapped arms around his lithe body loosely. 

Wooyoung’s body curled against Yeosang’s chest, like an animal taking shelter against a rock for the night, curling against the solid safety that allowed them to rest freely. 

Yeosang pressed a gentle kiss to the crown of Wooyoung’s head, heart clenching in the best way possible as he felt the other loose and pliant in his arms, no tension or stone beneath his skin. 

He buried his nose in his hair, body tired, but mind hyper aware of every inch of their bodies pressed together, Wooyoung’s warmth pressing against him like a heated blanket. 

An acknowledgement of presence, life, and promise. 

“I love you,” Yeosang whispered into the wispy strands that tickled his bare skin. 

Wooyoung’s body in his arms felt so small, but Yeosang knew all too well what it had gone through to get here. 

Wooyoung was so strong… and Yeosang knew that one day he’d realize just how far he’d come. He had to. 

Wooyoung was so utterly beyond that tormented, broken god that had stepped onto their ship without a single desire to live. 

Wooyoung  _ lived  _ now. 

He  _ wanted  _ to live- for himself, for his future… He had wanted to live for a long time now. 

And Yeosang would one day think of a way to articulate just how much he loved him for that. How much his entire being seemed to want to burst at the thought of Wooyoung being this happy, this calm, this peaceful- 

But… For now… 

For now… he held Wooyoung, eyes closing gently as he felt Wooyoung’s breathing remain even and deep in unbothered sleep… and Yeosang let himself think about a future where this would be Wooyoung’s norm. 

When loving and resting and peace… would be second nature, rather than brief moments of respite. 

There would be a day when Wooyoung would feel love and peace freely. 

And Yeosang would be there when it happened- he had sworn to one of the causes of that love, that peace… 

They  _ would  _ witness that future. 

Yeosang had promised. 

Together. 

An eternity of a future. Of happiness. 

Of love. 

All for Wooyoung. 

~~~~~~~~~

Thirty one years after Wooyoung stepped onto Hongjoong’s ship… 

Ten years after the last outburst that had incapacitated him… 

Twenty five years after the first time he and Yeosang’s presences melded into one… 

Wooyoung stepped back onto land. 

Real, solid land… surrounding a bustling port of ships and merchants- a cacophony of yelling, shouting, throwing, and chaotic hubbub.

Wooyoung shivered slightly, but it was mostly to do with the brisk breeze of Autumn passing through. He could feel a vague pulsing in the air- something electric and vibrating beneath the overlying current of his own heartbeat… 

Wooyoung ignored it in favor of watching three men wrestle in a circle of mud, some gold coins sitting on a betting table. 

The others circled around him, not out of defensiveness, but to get a closer look at the line of merchants along the pier. Wooyoung’s left hand was occupied with Yeosang’s, a solid presence resting against his side as Jongho gasped at a particularly beautiful dagger on display. 

Hongjoong stepped forward, observing the long line of ships along the dock, his hands placed on his hips, glancing at Wooyoung with minimal concern and genuine excitement tugging at his determinedly soured lips. 

“Shall we find a new ship to voyage on?” he asked their little crowd at large.

Seonghwa stood beside him, smiling quietly as Yeosang’s shoulder brushed Wooyoung’s as the Moon Child glanced at his quiet expression. 

Their hands were linked, but not out of a desperate necessity. 

Seven presences pressed against Wooyoung, blocking out most of the buzzing and electricity fizzling through his veins. 

It felt muted. He glanced over and saw a woman press a kiss to her husband’s lips as he got on a fishing ship. 

Wooyoung felt… powerful. 

Calm… and in  _ control.  _ The sort of powerful he had never felt before, when the only real power he knew was wild abandonment and destruction. 

He squeezed Yeosang’s hand just because he could as he glanced at the long line of ships- varying from decrepid to seeming like royalty could live in them. 

The others were watching him, grinning as San pointed at one ship that would very clearly be out of their desired price range. Yunho rolled his eyes, making Wooyoung chuckle as Jongho suggested that San ride in a fishing boat alongside them. 

The port was bustling. Chaotic, and bursting with noise and fits of anger at bargaining and pockets of love as men shoved each other around, women kissed their husbands goodbye, and children ran among the market stalls. 

But Wooyoung felt  _ alive.  _

Wooyoung smiled quietly, glancing at Yeosang who was staring at him with eyes that glowed with everything and moonlight. Wooyoung’s chest tingled with the presence beside him. 

His hand still buzzed around the spot that Yeosang had kissed just moments before stepping off the ship. 

Wooyoung’s chest warmed as love sparked in his veins. “Yeah,” he murmured a bit breathlessly, lips twitching up in hope. “Let’s find a new start.” 

Yeosang’s hand gripped his tightly as six others reached out for him. 

Eternity stretched before him.

Wooyoung ran towards it. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you thank you so much for reading!! >w<  
> I hope this was satisfying because it felt so good for me to write lol~  
> Please let me know what you thought of this chapter- I’m so sad to let go of this story ㅠㅠㅠ 
> 
> In addition: my next work will be a Florist/Gang!AU (primarily seongjoong but with a good helping of woosang!)  
> I hope you guys will enjoy it!  
> I’ll see you in my next work! Thank you, lovelies!!!  
> -SS

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading!!! I hope you all enjoyed! Please let me know what you thought! 
> 
> Slower updates, but I’m still more than happy to chat or answer questions in between chapters!! 
> 
> My twitter and CC are @_SinisterSound_ if you want to chat or have any questions! I also post when I update on Twitter! 
> 
> Have a safe and amazing day, lovelies! <3  
> -SS


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